Harry Potter and the Eaglefeather RewriteRepost
by Andromeda Wind
Summary: Tyra Gordeeva appears as a transfer student from Eaglefeather Academy. What links her and Harry's past? Will they be able to think of some way to stay alive?
1. Default Chapter

       The spine-chilling rattling of the pipes above Ron's room and Ginny's tentative knock on the door brought Ron's violent orange room décor into relative focus for Harry's unprepared eyes. He blinked owlishly, numb fingers groping for his glasses. His fist finally closed triumphantly over them after a few seconds. "Hurry up, you two! Mum says we'll be late." Ron groaned from under his pile of blankets, looking to Harry like a moving, flame-orange hill. "C'mon, Ron. That was Ginny."      

       "Don' wanna," he grumbled back, sitting up and ruffling his already tousled red hair. It clashed violently with the Chudley Cannons poster behind his head. Harry blinked twice more to force his eyes to focus, dragging himself to his knees. He stretched his arms above his head, then forced his tingling legs to move him about as he gathered up the items he had left all over Ron's room and cramming them into his already tight-packed trunk.

       "Ronald Weasley! Get out of bed!" His mother chirped as she flung the door wide. "Good morning, Harry dear. Toast and sausages downstairs. Nevermind the trunk. I'll have Fred and George fetch it. Ron, get up!" Harry crammed his still-numb fingers into the pockets of his over-sized jeans, cloak trailing crookedly behind him. Mr. Weasley, Ginny, Bill, Charlie, and Hermione were crowded around the breakfast table. Everyone seemed sleepier than usual, owing to the dreary weather. The sky was ominously overcast. Molly Weasley came bustling in behind him and straightened his cloak.      

       "Morning, Mrs. Weasley," Hermione greeted her, managing a small wave.     

       "Packed, Mother dear," Fred crooned, dusting down his clothes as he entered the kitchen.                     

       "Ready to go," George confirmed, straightening his sweater.                                                              

        "What did you two get into?" she asked suspiciously. In response, Ron's angry voice could be heard from the back garden spluttering very colorful words. "What did you do to your brother?"     

         "Buried the dead," George replied with a shrug.                                                                              

        "He wasn't waking up, so we thought he might be dead," Fred finished, chuckling. Ron stomped in in a foul temper. Molly made the offending dirt disappear with a wave of her wand.   

        "Now boys, that was very wrong," Arthur Weasley chided, biting back laughter.                                    

        "Come on, then," Molly said curtly. "We'll be late if you all don't get in to that car right now." Harry piled bits of toast on a napkin and followed the group out into the yard. The chickens were pecking around a large, mustard-yellow Volkswagen Vanagen. Harry knew instantly that this was another of Arthur Weasley's project cars when he climbed into the seemingly narrow, backmost seat next to Ron and Hermione and Ginny fit comfortably on his other side. Bill, Charlie, Fred, and George seated themselves in the middle seat, laughing about something. Harry could only pick up whispers when he tried to listen in. Molly glanced dubiously back over her shoulder. Satisfied, she faced the front as Arthur tapped the dash with his wand and the car grumbled to life. The smell and décor reminded Harry of Mrs. Figg's drapes. A tacky tree air-freshener, long without scent, hung from the crooked rear-view. The car had the ability to squeeze through small spaces; trees, parking meters, and benches jumping aside as they did when the Knight Bus passed through.                                                                                                                    

        They made it to Platform 9 ¾ with very little time to spare. Mr. Weasley went through first with Ginny, followed by Fred and George, and Harry and Ron went last. Bill and Charlie waved cheerily at them, deciding to wait outside the barrier. Molly brought up the rear, stopping just in time to keep from bowling Ron over as he tried to calm Pigwidgeon down. Harry was busy saying his goodbye to Fred and George, who would return to Diagon Alley and their joke shop as soon as they saw their younger siblings off to school.   

        Hermione nudged Harry in the ribs, staring intently at a group of frightened-looking first-years and their parents. "What is it, Hermione?" Harry asked, trying to follow her line of vision. He saw her standing off to the side of the first years with a man that must have been about the same age as some of the younger parents. The man wore a full set of midnight-blue robes, hat tilted at a jaunty angle over red-brown hair. He hugged the girl tightly, kissing her cheek before saying something to her and walking away. She looked too old to be a new student, but Harry was certain he had never seen her before. The most interesting thing was her cloak, which she wore over nicely-fitting jeans and a red, rugby-style shirt. It was black, but Harry didn't recognize the house symbol emblazoned on the front. It was red and gold, like the Gryffindor lion, but was obviously not the familiar, feline shape. She had the same wavy, red-brown hair as the man who had just left, and brilliant hazel-green eyes.   

        "Do you suppose she's a transfer student?" Ron inquired, joining in their awed stares.                               

       "I've never heard of a transfer student at Hogwarts," Hermione replied, but did nothing to crush Ron's suggestion. Stranger things had been known to happen, like Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, falling through a doorway into nothingness and death. That thought made Harry shudder and hang his head.              

        "Isn't she interesting?" Fred breathed, and George elbowed him. It appeared as though both of the twins were intent on the new student as well.                              

        "Get a spot on the train dears, they leave in a minute," Molly prodded, bringing them back to reality. She kissed everyone on the cheek, shunting them along the platform to a car with empty compartments. Hermione and Ron left Harry and Ginny then to go and report to the head boy and girl. Harry slumped in the seat across from Ginny, trying hard not to think about the end of the previous year and the death of his godfather. As the train shuddered into motion, a familiar head peered around the door. It was Neville.    

        "Mind if we sit with you?" he asked, gesturing to his companion. It was the girl from the platform, smiling brightly. "Everywhere else is full."                                                                                                    

        "Please," Harry replied excitedly, sitting upright and waving them in. Neville sat next to Ginny, blushing slightly as she smiled her hello. The new girl sat down next to Harry, holding out a hand for him to shake. 

        "Tyra Gordeeva," she stated, still smiling. "I'm a new student, a seventh-year."                   

        "Where are you from?" he asked, noting her voice was devoid of the British or Scottish lilt usually associated with Hogwarts students.                                           

        "Eaglefeather Academy in the United States. My father, Marrick, is an Auror. He came to work for your ministry. Dumbledore is an old friend of Dad's and invited me to finish my schooling at Hogwarts. You must be Harry Potter." She turned to Ginny. "And you must be Ginny. Neville's told me about you."

        "How do you know Neville?" Ginny asked, not surprised that Neville had mentioned her.                   

        "I met him this morning on the platform, looking for his toad. I found it perching atop my things." Hermione leaned into the compartment, Ron peering over her shoulder.                                                                 

        "She's in here!" Hermione squeaked, sitting next to Ginny and watching as Ron blushed to his ear-tips and sat next to Tyra.                           

        "I'm Tyra, and you are?"               

        "Hermione Granger. This is Ron. I saw the dragon on your cloak and had to ask, what academy did you attend in the United States?"        

        "Eaglefeather. The house I belonged to was Fira Draconis, much like Gryffindor. In fact, I will be attending classes as a Gryffindor at Hogwarts." It was the first time Harry had thought to look at the emblem on her chest. It was indeed the head of a red dragon surrounded with gold.                          

        "Ooh, what's it like there?" Hermione pressed, eyes shining. She seemed breathless, Harry noticed, as though the two prefects had run their rounds.                                                         

        "Well, different from Hogwarts, I assume. I am studying to become an Auror like Dad. I had Potions, Transfiguration, Herbology, Arithmancy, Defense Against the Dark Arts, Care of Magical Creatures, Charms, and Dueling."                                                     

        "Dueling is a class?" Ron inquired incredulously.                              

        "Of course it is. If one wants to defend themselves against Dark wizards, one must know how to duel. I have a past with your fabled Lord Voldemort. No way am I going to risk running across him or the Death Eaters unprepared," she replied. Harry noticed how she didn't seem to fear saying Voldemort. In fact, she seemed to have some sort of personal interest in Voldemort. Maybe she was like other students at Hogwarts, who had lost parents to Death Eaters. Harry kept this to himself, however, and instead stared out the window.               

        "I hear you're a Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team, Harry," Tyra broke through his personal wall and brought him back to the present.                             

        "He's the best Seeker in years," Hermione vouched for him, smiling proudly. "Ron plays Keeper."    

        "The team is barely existent. We haven't got a captain, and we need two Beaters and three Chasers. Our team fell apart this year," Harry pointed glumly.                                                             

         Hermione and Ron got up after a few moments of silence. "We'll be there soon. We'll be needed to keep control," Hermione apologized. Tyra waved goodbye for the otherwise-silent companions.                

        "All right, Harry?" Neville asked, looking concerned.                                                                 

        "Fine, fine," Harry waved Neville off. In all truth, he wasn't feeling well. His head always hurt, and at Dumbledore's insistence, he would be taking Occlumency lessons from Snape again. Tyra met his eyes with a sympathetic smile, as though she could almost sense what the problem was. Harry wondered how much she knew.

        The screeching of the wheels against the rails heralded the inevitable stop at the platform in Hogsmeade. "Thestrals!" Tyra exclaimed excitedly, leaning across Harry to look out the windows. "Cool!" Neville and Ginny shuddered slightly. It was the first time that they had been so visible to either.                          

        "You can see them?" Harry asked, gathering Hedwig's cage to his chest as the train halted and the whistle blared.                                                                                                                                       

        "I've been able to see them since I was two," she replied easily. "They had a whole bunch of them back at Eaglefeather. When I was little, Dad used to take me to see them." Harry nodded, smiling slightly. She didn't seem like the type of person to nag him, like his other friends sometimes could when they were worried. She seemed to him like someone who had seen a lot in her life, perhaps even so much as himself.                                                 "I suppose I've been able to see them since I saw…"                                                                               "Cedric Diggory die," Hermione piped in softly as she and Ron caught up. Tyra raised her eyebrows, as though remembering something. Harry didn't bother her.                                                                                

        They found themselves a carriage and settled inside. Tyra set a covered cage in her lap, hugging it guardedly to her chest before sticking her head out the window to get a better look at the thestral pulling them along. Everyone sat in comfortable silence, lost in private thought. The carriage stopped before the sweeping stairway up to the castle. Unlike the others, Tyra refused to leave the covered cage with her trunk. She instead carried it carefully, as though it were highly breakable.                                                                                     

        Torchlight wavered feebly from the wind as they forced their way through the jumble of students and into the hallway. Professor McGonagall greeted the four at the top of the stairs, pursed lips drawn into a ghost of a smile. "Harry, Tyra, Professor Dumbledore has requested a word with you. Come, you can wait in my office." Hermione and Ron exchanged curious glances as they watched the pair being led off.                                                             

Tyra leaned against McGonagall's desk, studying the board with the explanation of how to transfigure a lemur into a chair. Her gaze moved from the board to the various animals caged around the sides of the room for students to practice on. Harry's eyes finally came to rest on her cage, which she had laid on the front table near an open book. He was about to ask her what was inside it when Dumbledore, McGonagall, and Snape entered the room. Dumbledore smiled at Harry, eyes twinkling from over his half-moon spectacles. Professor McGonagall seated herself at her desk, folding her hands and resting them in front of her. Snape leaned against the wall, eyeing Tyra with a mixture of pride and contempt. "So, you are both wondering why I asked you here," Dumbeldore began. "As you may have noticed, Tyra is a transfer student. I understand it is highly unusual to finish your final year of schooling at another school, but I think you will find Hogwarts to your liking, Tyra. If you have any questions, Professor McGonagall will be able to answer them for you. She is Gryffindor's head of house. One more thing before you go, Tyra, please wait. Harry, you will be studying Occlumency under Professor Snape.  I highly recommend that you treat him with the unmost respect. And lastly, Tyra, I was told about your marvelous bird. Please inform Professor McGonagall of what he is and we will decide if you can keep him here." Tyra pulled the cover off the cage with a nervous twitch of her fingers. It was a bird not unlike Fawkes, feathers silver and ice blue, eyes shining a brilliant aquamarine.                      

        "Taranon is a blue phoenix. They were an accepted animal companion at Eaglefeather Academy. I don't know what I'd do without him!" She seemed ready to spring on defense if someone told her otherwise.    

        "Of course he can stay. I think Hagrid might have a good time studying him," Professor McGonagall agreed.

        "Unless you have questions, you may go to the feast now," Dumbledore told Tyra.                

        "If it's all right, I'll wait outside for Harry," she replied. At a nod from Dumbledore, Tyra left the room, closing the door behind her.                                                                                                                       

        "Harry, I want you to show Tyra around.  Spend some time with her, get to know her.  You have more than a few things in common.  One is Lord Voldemort.  Now, if you have no questions for me, I assure you Tyra is waiting outside."  Hary nodded dumbly and pushed the door open before him.  After it had swung shut on slightly creaky hinges, the silence was broken.                                                                                     

        "Headmaster, do you think it was prudent to tell him that?" Minerva McGonagall asked.               

        "They both have to learn from one another. She knows more about Harry than he does about her. I thought it fair to prepare him a little." She nodded in agreement with his last statement. Snape had said nothing, but Harry had noticed the odd look in his eyes when he looked at Tyra. It was different than the one Harry was used to getting, and so much more emotional. The oddness of it fled his thoughts as he noticed Tyra sitting next to a statue of a phoenix on the floor waiting for him. Taranon was perched on her shoulder, and crooned a soft signal to her that someone was coming. She looked up at Harry, holding out her hand. He hauled her to her feet, watching Taranon toss his head. Dumbledore emerged after Harry, smiling knowingly at them both.                            

        "Come, help an old man to dinner," Dumbledore offered, a companionable arm thrown around Harry's shoulders. "Better I come with you anyhow to introduce Tyra to the school." He grinned at Tyra who was silent with thought.  "How is Marrick Gordeeva, anyhow?"                                                                           

        "Dad is doing well, thanks. He's excited to be helping the Ministry." Dumbledore nodded, leading the way into the crowded splendor of the Great Hall. The four long, trestle tables were packed with eager students. Harry knew that they had missed the sorting. Hermione gestured to them, leading them to saved seats. Curious eyes rested on Tyra and her phoenix, following her progress until she seated herself at the Gryffindor table. Harry caught Malfoy's mouth hanging open and he nudged Crabbe and Goyle.                                                             

        "Attention, please." McGonagall used her fork against her goblet to gain order from the students.      

        "I have a start-of-term announcement," Dumbledore stated, looking over the heads of the excited students. Tyra tucked into her meal with ferocity, passing Harry potatoes and sipping her pumpkin juice. "Most of you have noticed the new student in our midst, and are likely wondering what a student in the seventh year is doing starting at Hogwarts. Tyra Gordeeva is joining us for her final year of school after leaving her home at Eaglefeather Academy in the United States. I hope you will all welcome her and help her find her way around. She will be with Gryffindor for her final year, so I expect the Gryffindors to be exceptionally helpful. With that said, first years, please follow your house prefects to the dormitories." Whispered conversation broke out all around. Tyra seemed oblivious as Ron and Hermione called the first years to them and led them away for Gryffindor tower. She remarked only on how the dreary weather affected the enchanted ceiling to Harry as she finished clearing her plate. The older students began to drift off to their respective common rooms. Draco Malfoy had apparently finished guiding his first-year crowd to the Slytherin common room ad reappeared to gather his dense cronies, Crabbe and Goyle. Both looked like ungainly gorillas as they shuffled to their feet and followed him to the Gryffindor table.                                      

        "Well, if it isn't stupid Saint Potter. Find another worshipper, Potter?"                                        

        "Shut it," Harry replied coolly, noticing Tyra had taken to standing beside him. Malfoy had grown tall over the summer, but not as tall as Tyra. He took an unconscious step back, placing himself between his self-appointed bodyguards.                                                                                                                            

        "Find something better to do than torture troubled souls… Draco, right? He has enough to deal with without you to cope with. Get out of here before I report you to Professor Snape." Somehow, Harry knew that Snape probably wouldn't stick up for him, but he kept his mouth closed. The threat seemed to work on Malfoy, at least, for the moment. His normally pallid cheeks were bright red from being so coolly chided. Harry stared dumbly after them. Realization she had just stuck up for him finally dawned.                                                             

        "Thanks for that," Harry told her, getting to his feet slowly. "I'll show you up to our common room, if you'll let me."                                                                                                                                             

        "Of course," Tyra replied, chirping to Taranon. The phoenix jumped from the table and alighted on her shoulder. "Ready. You can touch him," she assured. Harry reached out and stroked the pleasantly warm feathers. So like Fawkes, but so differently colored it was hard to place them as the same kind of creature. Hagrid hurried over to them, boyish eagerness written across his features.                                                                           

        "All righ' Harry? Tyra? Is that a blue phoenix?"                                                                

        "Dumbledore said you might help me look after Taranon. I must admit, he kind of found me. I do what I can for him, but I am not the most well-versed in phoenixes."                                                                      
        "Truly?"                                                                                                                              

        "We'll bring him for a visit to your cabin later," Harry remarked. "I was getting ready to show Tyra around."

        "All righ' then. Good night, both o' yeh."                                                                                 

        "That was diplomatic," Tyra said approvingly. "I am very tired. Not used to the time change yet." Harry smiled, but said nothing. Hermione and Ron found them going up the trick steps. Harry was explaining the necessity for care when using the staircases when they met.                                                                                   

        "There you are, Harry. Good meeting with Dumbledore?" Hermione asked.

        "The usual, Occlumency lessons, and…" He glanced at Tyra, remembering Dumbledore's short explanation about things in  common.                                                                                                                

        "You're stuck doing that again?" Ron groaned.                                                                         

        "Well, if he would have done it the first time…" Hermione trailed off. "That's not what we came to bother you about," she said quickly, noting the look on Harry's face. She held out an envelope. It was addressed to him. "McGonagall asked me to give it to you. What is it Harry?" He tore open the wax seal, skimming the first few lines before Tyra yanked it from his hand excitedly.                                                                         

        "Harry's been made Quidditch Captain!" Tyra exclaimed excitedly.                              

        "Congratulations, Harry," Hermione said, seeming relieved.                                                       

        "Cool!" Ron exclaimed, eager to make up for being named prefect last year while Harry was left wondering. Taranon leaned over and nudged Harry affectionately.                                                          

        "A blue phoenix, awesome!" Hermione exclaimed. "I've read about them in Monster Book of Monsters. They're not native to this area."                                                                  

        "Of course not. Taranon found me in America," Tyra explained. Harry led the way up the stairs, the portraits sometimes voicing greetings as they passed.                                                                                 

        "Password?" The Fat Lady loomed before them, fluttering her purple fan coyly.                    

        "Expecto Patronum," Hermione told her. The portrait hole swung open to reveal hundreds of eager faces. 

        "I'm off to bed," Tyra stated to the disappointed trio. "Goodnight, Harry. Goodnight Ron, Hermione." Harry shook his head as a few people asked him questions. He too was tired, he realized. He said his goodnights and wandered up the boy's staircase and into the room he shared with Neville, Ron, Seamus, and Dean. The plate on the door read "sixth years". Harry found his things settled at the foot of his bed. Hedwig was waiting for him. She nipped his finger affectionately, asking to be let out without really asking. Harry opened the window and watched her wing off into the night to hunt. Closing the curtains on his four-poster bed, he collapsed, still dressed, and fell into immediate sleep.

Ron gave Harry a nudge in the ribs as they sat over a huge pile of Divination homework. Tyra was playing a game with Taranon, throwing a ball and laughing as he took flight. Hermione was out on rounds, her huge stack of books forgotten on the table in front of them. A gaggle of awed first-years sat in armchairs around the fire, watching Taranon with interest. Harry was vaguely wondering how Tyra could possibly be able to fool around and still pass her classes. He could see her abandoned potions homework sticking out from beneath the Monster Book of Monsters and a copy of Standard book of Spells, Grade 7. Ron elbowed him again, this time more urgently. Hedwig was at the window, clicking her beak impatiently on the glass to be let in. Harry strode the length of the common room and threw the window open. A gust of chilly air blasted across his cheeks, coloring them slightly as Hedwig fluttered to a high-backed chair and waited for him to close the sash with a bang. Tyra glanced up mid-toss, eyes on the owl. Her brow knitted with worry, as though she were certain the news was bad. Harry swallowed subconsciously before untying the letter from Hedwig's waiting ankle. It was addressed jointly to him and Tyra. He waved her over urgently, and Taranon alighted on her shoulder. Harry split the gold, star-shaped seal on the back, willing his hands not to tremble. Ron hurried over as well, not liking the nervous twitch in Harry's shoulder and the look on Tyra's face. There was a newspaper clipping from the Daily Prophet. A picture of Tyra's mother and father winked cheerily at them. Harry blinked at the portrait of her mother, so like Harry looked, but with long waves of hair sweeping down over her shoulders. "Mom, Dad?" Tyra puzzled over their portraits. Ron gaped at the headline, "Last of the Potter-Gordeeva Clan Killed".                                                                                                                       

        "Read it out loud for us, Harry," Hermione prompted, materializing as though out of thin air. Harry retreated into a dark corner, the other three trailing along.                                                           

        "Marrick Gordeeva, Auror, 37, was killed yesterday during a skirmish with Death Eaters outside of London. Marrick, who is survived by his daughter, Tyra Gordeeva, was part of an assigned group of wizards assigned to protect the Potter family the night He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named met his demise at the hands of Harry Potter. A Ministry official has told The Daily Prophet that the attack on Marrick was most likely an attempt to finish what was started long ago. It is unapparent at first glance how he died, but investigators reveal that it was most likely the most evil of all Unforgivable Curses, the Avada Kedavra curse." Tyra's face was ghost white and her jaws were tense. She seemed to have known ahead of time, though how, Harry couldn't tell. Harry stared intently at Tyra. "Your mum and dad were friends with mine?"                                                                                          

        "Your mom and mine were best friends at school," Tyra confirmed quietly. Harry nodded in shock. He never heard much about the past of his parents.                                                                                 

        "Wait, what's this?" Hermione asked, picking up the dropped envelope from its place between Harry's feet and removing another piece of parchment from inside. This one was made from newspaper clippings from The Daily Prophet and Witch Weekly. Tyra could recognize the distinctive fonts. It had a very cruel message. "Potter and Gordeeva beware. You'll be next. This time, neither of you will escape." A cruel sketch of a skull with a snake protruding from its mouth had been scribbled underneath. Hermione had her hand clapped over her mouth, Ron's hand on her shoulder as she stepped back and dropped the letter. It was as though the inanimate snake had bitten her.                                                                                                                                           

        "Well, that's certainly pleasant," Ron gulped, attempting to smile despite the nagging sensation to sink into a chair. Tyra reached out and grabbed Harry's hand. He squeezed it reassuringly.                                      

        "Harry, you should show Dumbledore," Hermione prompted expectantly. "Threat letters aren't funny."

        "He's not laughing! But she's right. You should go to Dumbledore, Harry, he'll know what to do," Ron agreed. Tyra nodded slightly, as though agreeing. Harry knew he should, Dumbledore was the head of the Order of the Phoenix and deserved to know the whereabouts of the Death Eaters. But he would know anyhow, owing to the fact that it was written in the Daily Prophet. Did Harry want to bother Dumbledore with a silly threat letter? Probably some stupid Slytherin attempting to make them nervous. Draco had been looking smug at dinner. Attempting to smooth his unruly hair, Harry sighed.                                                                

        "Tyra?" Hermione asked.                                                                                              

        "This time I think you can concede, Harry. Just this once. Dumbledore should know what to do about this threat, and I need to know…where I go now. I don't have family at all. Dad was an only child." Harry nodded dumbly. Tyra seemed to be battling her inner emotions well for the time being. Harry wondered to himself how long it would last. Taranon began to sing a mournful tune. It chilled Harry's bones, so high-pitched and haunting.

        "We'll take you," Hermione urged. "We're allowed out in the corridors at night. Come on, Ron." The four quietly edged out of the common room, hoping not to be noticed by the students who were still up. Tyra finally lost it, tears trailing fingers down her throat, though she was deceptively quiet. Hermione raised her eyebrows empathetically, and Harry threw an arm around her shoulders. At least Dumbeldore could definitely tell him more about Tyra and her family and the defense team set to guard his parents. Professor Snape stopped them as they reached the hall leading to the griffon statue that was the secret entrance to Dumbledore's office.              

        "You're not supposed to be out of bed, Potter, Gordeeva. I think twenty points from Gryffindor should be sufficient, don't you?"                                                                                                     

        "We need to see the headmaster," Tyra stated defiantly, tear-wet cheeks sparkling in the torchlight. "It's important."                                                                                                                                  

        "So now we're going to argue with a teacher?" he inquired, tossing his greasy hair and staring at her hard, as though daring her to fight back.                                                                                                       

        "Yes, I am going to argue with a teacher," she replied sullenly. "This is serious, Professor. If you must know," she stated, waving the article from The Daily Prophet under his nose.                                            

        "What seems to be the problem?" Professor McGongall asked. "What are you four doing out of bed?"

        "It's as I feared, Minerva," Dumbledore's voice interrupted. "Marrick Gordeeva was killed by Death Eaters. Ron, Hermione, back to Gryffindor tower. Severus, Minerva, follow me. You as well, Harry, Tyra."

_FYI, if my OC seems to be a little too good for people, if they think I am trying to one-up Harry in any way, that's not the case. I promise you the need for the character will explain itself as soon as I get a little further in. I promise it will be worth it! Please don't be angry with me!_

_BTW, I do not own any of the Harry Potter Characters. As much as I wish I could claim half the talent of J.K. Rowling, I can't. OC Tyra Gordeeva is mine. _

_No flames please!!!!!!_


	2. The Strange Book

Tyra followed Dumbledore at a gesture from Harry.  Snape was following behind them, curiousity mixed with disgust clear on his features.  He was giving Tyra that look again.  Harry knew that if Snape was involved, then the Order of the Phoenix would undoubtedly be involved as well.  Dumbledore pointed Tyra to a chair, which she sank into very willingly.  Her head dropped forward almost to her knees as she fought to control herself.   She stared at her hands for a long moment before forcing herself to look everyone in the eyes.  McGonagall rushed over and threw her arms around Tyra and Harry, who had moved to stand behind her.  "I understand that this will be hard for you, as well as Harry.  There are a few things we are going to need to know, when you are ready to talk.  But for now, we will see to it you are excused for the funeral.  I assume you plan to attend?"  Tyra nodded once to confirm.  

"Please, let me go too," Harry asked quietly.  

"Unfortunately, that isn't prudent, Harry.  I am afraid Tyra will have to go on her own.  I will send someone with her.  In fact, I know just the person."  Dumbledore turned to one of the portraits behind him. "Phineas!"  Phineas, in his Slytherin colors, with his sharp features and handsome beard, was in his usual state of sleep. "PHINEAS!"

"What is it, Dumbledore?  Always waking me," he grumbled sourly.  

"I need you to hop into your other portrait at the Black mansion and shout for Remus Lupin.  Tell him he is to travel to Hogwarts with all speed to escort Tyra Gordeeva to her father's funeral."  Phineas saluted with a half-feigned yawn, vanishing.  Tyra stared at the empty frame, eyebrow raised in question.  

"Remus is nice," Harry assured her.

"I know he is.  I didn't know portraits could do that."

"Harry didn't know that there was really a Chamber of Secrets.  We learn something new every year," Dumbledore said, managing a small chuckle.  Snape stood by, subdued as usual.  He was staring even harder than usual at Tyra.  Tyra returned his look with a sort of bemused quirk at the edge of her mouth.  When Snape met Harry's eyes, he hardened up again.  What was the connection? Harry wondered that to himself.   "Have a seat, Harry."  Dumbledore waved his wand and a squashy green armchair appeared next to Tyra's chair.  Minerva had both hands on Tyra's shoulders.  Harry looked Dumbledore in the eye. 

"I want to go with her."  He was very firm, but respectful.  

"Harry, as much as I would love to grant your request, I simply can't.  You'll see why soon enough."  Harry nodded slightly, fists clenching.  He wasn't a stupid little child.  He had taken on Voldemort numerous times and come out alive now.  Of course, the last time hadn't gone well, but he felt as though he deserved a little more credit for being able to take care of himself. As much as he hated Dumbledore's decision, he still held the man in the highest regard.  Especially after last year's confession that he had become too attached to Harry and wanted more than anything to see Harry happy.  He had a strange sort of affection for the Headmaster.  

"Ah, Remus," Dumbledore said as the door banged open and the pale, stick-slim figure of Remus Lupin entered the room.  He had dark circles under his eyes, and Harry knew why.  The full moon had recently passed.  He looked more drawn than usual, but his smile was the same as ever.  

"I came as fast as I could, Albus."

"No worries.  We've been sitting here patiently.  Sorry to have taken you away from watch tonight.  I assure you Tyra will need you more than the watch rotation."

"Molly took my place.  It's no problem.  Hey, Harry."  Harry managed what he hoped was a passable smile.  "Tyra?  Do you need to gather anything from your room?"  Tyra nodded once.  "We'll be on our way then.  See you, Harry.  Good day, Severus." Snape nodded, a slight sneer pulling at his upper lip.  Tyra was swept from the room rather ceremoniously.  Dumbledore waited until they had gone to turn to Harry.  He was sitting quietly, waiting for what would come next.  

"Minerva, please alert the professors of Tyra's absence as soon as possible.  Severus?"

"I know what I have to do, Headmaster.  I'll report tomorrow morning if all goes well."  Snape swept from the room, drawing the black folds of his robes around him as he left.  "Harry, I think it fair to warn you that in the next few weeks you will hear things you may not want to hear.  I really need you to stay true to your Occlumency lessons, Harry.  It is incredibly important."  Harry bobbed his head, but said nothing.  Tears of anger were hot in his eyes.  "Is there something you wanted to say to me?"  Harry shook his head slightly.

"No, Sir.  I'm tired."  Harry's hand strayed to his scar.  Voldemort was pleased.  Very pleased.  He could hear the haunting laugh, see the terrifying visage as if in a mirror.  The Dark Lord was most amused.  Harry could venture a guess as to why.  "One question," he admitted guardedly.  Dumbledore nodded him to continue.  "Tyra said her parents were charged with guarding my family."

"They volunteered to keep an eye on the perimeter, were even there to help cast the Secret-keeper spell that hid you from the Death Eaters.  The Gordeevas were grand friends of the Potters.  Your mother and Tyra's were very close."  Harry inclined his head, considering what had been said.  "You're going to ask her to tell her side of the story, aren't you?"  Harry asked, already knowing the answer.

"Yes, Harry.  It will help you understand a few things, as well as the Order.  Tyra might remember something we've managed to overlook.  I suggest you get to bed, Harry.  Tell Miss Granger and Mister Weasley all you'd like, but be sure no one hears you.  I would like to keep the other students in the dark on this.  Undue terror right now could be most unfortunate."  Harry got numbly to his feet, steering himself toward the door.  "And Harry?"

"Yes, Professor?"

"Please don't take it personally that I wouldn't let you go."

"I know.  It isn't safe for me," he replied almost sarcastically.  Dumbledore watched his retreat with something between sadness and pride on his features. 

"So it's true then?" Ron asked incredulously.  "You think she'll even remember anything at all?  She was two years old!"

"She knows Lupin.  I bet you anything she knew Sirius and Peter Pettigrew and maybe even James!" Hermione exclaimed, not realizing the pain she was causing Harry with those names.  That was a list he both loathed and treasured, the feeling of it heavy on his shoulders.  Harry's frown made her reconsider. "Sorry, Harry.  But it is true."

Hermione ran her fingers through her usually bushy brown hair.  Harry only then noticed the way her hair was nicely curled and how it framed her face.  She was growing into a lovely young woman.  And Ron was more propotionate, slightly less lanky in appearance.  His frame was filling out, no longer dwarfed by over-sized hands and feet.  "You're right," he sighed.  "I wonder why Dumbledore chose now of all times to bring the past to light.  And I'd still like to know why Snape is so interested in her.  I swear I've caught him following us several times.  And have you seen the way he looks at her?  It's weird."  Ron wrinkled his nose, freckles dancing comically over it like little ants.  

"Maybe he has a crush."

"Are you kidding?" Hermione cried, looking scandalized.

"I am sure Ron was kidding, Hermione.  I am going to bed."  Harry was tired and didn't want to listen to his friends bicker.  

"Goodnight, Harry," Hermione called after him.  He could hear them chattering heatedly, no doubt continuing their argument about Snape's secret love interest.  He drew on his pajamas, smiling slightly at Neville, who was up reading his Herbology book with a particularly fascinated look.  Nevilla chose to say nothing, which suited him well.  He sank into his four-poster, forcing himself to try and clear his mind and go to sleep.  It didn't come easily, and when it finally did, he almost wished he had stayed awake.  His mother's screams, the flashes of green light through the bars of his crib…it was all so real, so defined.  The face that haunted him day and night, the face of Voldemort, leered over him, wand ready.  Harry felt the gust of magical wind that filled the room and stared through unknowing infant eyes after the shadow that remained after the bright emerald behind his lidded eyes.  He remembered another face, the face of a young man with familiar red-brown hair…He woke with a start, soaked with sweat.  Ron's arms were pinning him firmly to the bed. 

"Harry?  Harry?  It's me, Ron!  Your best friend!  You were dreaming again…" Ron trailed off lamely, stepping back to allow Harry space.  

"Thanks, Ron," Harry replied in a hoarse whisper.  "I needed to wake up."  Yet something about the dream gave Harry a nagging feeling of its importance.  It was the first time he had ever recalled Marrick Gordeeva in all his millions recaps of the past.  Something about that bothered him as he sank back into his pillows, staring wide-eyed at Ron. 

"Wanna talk?"

"Maybe tomorrow.  Go back to bed."  Ron nodded, confusion clear.  It was normal for Harry to dream, and equally normal for him to keep his dreams and fears to himself.  Frustrated, Ron flopped back into his own bed and pulled the curtains around himself.  Harry did the same, taking hold of his wand.  "_Lumos_," he whispered.  A dim ball of light appeared at the wand's tip.  Harry pulled the picture book Hagrid had given him in his first year from beneath his pillow and flipped through the pages.  He stopped at the photograph of his parent's wedding, eyes wandering over the familiar scene.  Sirius and his dad waved cheerily, dressed in tuxedos.  Lily Potter blew him kisses.  Beside her was a young woman in a green dress.  She was blushing deeply as she edged into the picture.  Harry had failed to pay her any mind before.  She had the same hazel-green eyes as Tyra, and the face was the same as the one in the clipping from the Daily Prophet.  Her hair was very dark, almost as black as that of James.  She gave a small wave, throwing an arm around Lily's shoulders and blowing kisses as well.  Harry couldn't help but smile through his sadness.  The scene was so happy, he couldn't possibly think that every single person in that portrait was dead.  Instead, he forced himself to close the book and extinguished the light.  He spent the rest of the night awake, laying on his side listening to the breathing of the room's other occupants, punctuated by Ron's snores.

"Team tryouts?  Do you think Tyra would try out?" Ron asked, looking at the notice Harry had pinned up on the board.  

"She likes to fly, but she doesn't play Quidditch," Hermione answered.  "We had this discussion."  Harry nodded agreement.  Taranon fluttered from out of nowhere and settled on Harry's shoulder.  Harry patted him distractedly.

"It'll give me something to think about while she's gone."

"Cho Chang isn't good enough?" Hermione teased gently.  

"To be quite honest, I don't know what to do about Cho," he admitted.  "But I am thinking about what I am going to have to hear Tyra tell me.  And something about it scares me beyond belief."

"Harry, scared?" Colin Creevey materialized, trying to jump into the conversation.  They were exiting the portrait hole to go down to breakfast.

"Girls," Ron said, rolling his eyes.  Colin shrugged, raising his camera.  

"Can I take pictures at tryouts?  Please?"

"We'll see Colin," Harry said civilly.  "Would you mind awfully doing me a favor?  Would you carry my broom for me tonight?"  Colin seemed satisfied with this, and tore down the hall to catch up to his younger brother.

"That was a brave move, Harry," Ron groaned.  "You sure you wanted to do that?"

"Can't have him listening in, can we?"

"S'pose not."  The trio entered the Great Hall in single file, walking down the long trestle table until they were halfway down its long surface before seating themselves.  Taranon hadn't left Harry's shoulder since he had perched there.  Harry didn't mind overmuch, his weight and warmth were somewhat conmforting.  Malfoy was going through one of his famous pantomimes and collapsing on the floor amid a flurry of Slytherin laughter.  Harry felt his gall rise, and found himself remaining seated only because his friends had each taken an arm.  

"He'd never do that to Tyra's face," Hermione said coolly, buttering toast.  "Leave it be, Harry.  He's provoking you.  Be the bigger person."  Harry nodded, though he by no means felt calm enough to take Malfoy's jibes this morning.  Blinking back moisture from his eyes, he scanned the head table for Snape.  The man was there, head bent over his plate as he attempted not to nod off.  He caught Harry's stare and nodded curtly, face drawing into a tight pinch.  

        "Well, we know Snape made it back this morning.  He looks judicious as usual," Hermione noted, a hint of anger in her voice.  "I wonder what he really has going on in that head of his when it comes to Tyra."

        "Better not to know yet, I think," Ron mused.  It was Saturday, and Harry had to get ready for Quidditch try-outs.  As he and Ron were the only permanently-assigned members of the team, they had their work cut out for them.  He gave Ron instructions to meet him at the pitch two hours before dinner.  Professor McGonagall had offered to book the field for them.  Harry had been grateful for the distraction.  He decided to take a walk thorugh the courtyard and wait around to see if Tyra had returned.  He wondered how long a wizard funeral took to prepare.  He assumed it would be quicker than a Muggle ceremony.  Perhaps she would even come back that day.  Harry wondered to himself where she would go now that her parents were gone.  Hermione and Ron joined him, sitting together under a tree.  Hermione opened a textbook and flattened out a roll of parchment, meticulously taking notes.  Ron busied himself with setting up his chess board and having a game against himself.  Harry was glad they were content to be silent company for the moment.  He sat with Taranon sprawled in his lap.  The bird was starting to molt, meaning it would be burning day soon.  Harry watched as the bird mussed its plumage.  It trilled once before springing into the air.  Harry watched him fly around a few times as though wanting to play.  Harry waited to see what would happen next.  When he did nothing, the phoenix landed in front of him and pecked his toe eagerly, as though trying to show him something.  He got to his feet, following the bird as it flew back toward the school.  Hermione slammed her book shut, getting eagerly to her feet.  A wave of her wand shrunk the chess board and pieces so they fit in Ron's pocket.  He rushed sheepishly after her, tailing Harry.  They chased Taranon willy-nilly through the corridors before finally coming to rest in the library.  Madame Pince eyed the creature as it landed in the darkest section of the library and tugged a book off the shelf.  

        "Mr. Potter, I do ask that you keep that creature out of the books!"

        "I am afraid he has a mind of his own, Madame Pince.  I will do my best."  Harry picked the bird up and placed him back on his shoulder perch before lifting an impossibly heavy volume that had fallen open in a puff of dust. It looked relatively new compared to the other books around it.  The title was emblazoned on its cover in brilliant gold lettering. "A Comprehensive List of British Wizarding Familie Historie" seemed like the least-used book in the whole library.  Harry wondered who would go to the trouble of cataloging  all the wizarding families in England.  Hermione raised her eyebrows, but said nothing as they found themselves a table.  Harry flipped to the front of the book.  It listed all the current students of Hogwarts, as though the book were kept up-to-date.  Hermione smiled knowingly, telling them that the book was charmed to record wizard family lines for the entire history of the school.  Harry found his own name, Potter, Harry…Page 7776.  Flipping through the pages, he saw the names of his parents, of his Aunt Petunia, Uncle Vernon, and Dudley, going back as far as his grandparents.  It went no further on his mother's side. But it traced back through his father's father two more generations.  His family stared back at him like some sort of missing link.  He was just looking up Gordeeva, Tyra, when she appeared behind him.

        "Hiya, Ron, Hermione.  Hey Harry, what you doing?"  Harry closed the book with a guilty snap.  

       "Just a little light reading," he replied, stealing Hermione's line.

       "You call that light?  Madam Pince said I could find you guys here.  I'm under strict orders to take Taranon out of the library.  He does look a little sickly, doesn't he?  I should probably put him on his perch to finish the transformation.  Won't you walk with me?"  Harry could hear her overly strained voice as she attempted to be cheerful.  She was very brave, walking along with a feigned spring to her step, keeping her secret from the rest of the school as best she could.  But the school would know, if anyone got the Daily Prophet.  Obviously Malfoy knew, he had been egging them on at breakfast.  Harry smiled and gave Hermione and Ron meaningful looks.

       "Of course we will," Hermione reassured, linking arms with her.  Harry heaved the volume into his satchel after making sure Ron would turn the signed card in to Madame Pince.  She watched them go with an accusatory glare, pleased that the phoenix was no longer making a fuss in her library.  Ron hurried after them, elbowing his way through a group of gossipy third-years that crowded the hall.

       "Move along, all of you.  Blocking the hall isn't a good idea."  Ron made sure they were leaving before finally catching up to his friends at the bottom of the stairs.   

       "What do you think, Ron?  Could I watch you guys do the tryout?"

       "Sure," Ron said distractedly in response to Tyra's question.  "I don't see why not."

       "Are you okay, Ron?"

       "I'm fine, just a little…short of breath.  All that running."  Tyra was convinced he was hiding something.  She could tell by how red his ears had become.  She decided not to press the issue for the moment, and instead told the Fat Lady the password (frosted frogs) before continuing her trek up the girls' staircase with Hermione.  "That was close, Harry.  We'll have to be careful.  What if she had seen you snooping?"

       "We'll look at it tonight after we go to bed." 

_       A/N:This chapter took me longer than expected.  It was hard, but I am trying hard to stay true to my plot line and not divulge too many details.  I am trying very hard to keep the characters as close to J.K. Rowling's interpretation.  _

_       Which leads me to my disclaimer.  All characters are the property of J.K. Rowling, except Tyra, she's mine.  Just bear with me, I will get the next chapter up as fast as I can._


	3. Climbing Trees

       Tyra watched Harry redden as he bossed around the would-be Quidditch team members from his perch on his broomstick with a mixture of interest and amusement.  Ginny Weasley was turning out to be quite the Beater,pelting Bludgers with deadly accuracy out of the field.  She was the only one Harry wasn't thoroughly frustrated with.  Neville Longbottom was making a sorry swing with his Beater bat, missing everything except the heads of the other players.  Ron was doing fine, stopping the Quaffle several times as it zoomed toward the hoops.  He had gained confidence over the summer and had adjusted admirably.  The only other player he was pleased with was Dean Thomas, whose passing skills were wonderful.  He had already mentally placed Ginny and Dean on the team.  That still left two Chasers and a Beater.  Colin Creevey had turned in his camera for a broom, and actually prised the Beater bat from Neville's hand as he ducked an attacking Bludger, sending it flying.  Colin would do fine as a Beater.  He still needed two Chasers.  Seamus Finnigan did a sickening roll, unable to control his broom well enough to stay seated.  Harry clutched his head, rolling his eyes.  Tyra could tell his head hurt.  Hermione looked concerned as well.  Euan Abercrombie, a second-year, looked really good passing the Quaffle with Dean.  Harry decided he would do.  That left one position open.  He sent Neville to pass the Quaffle and try to score some goals.  He was actually doing admirably, though his aim was off.  He'd have to do.  Harry ticked off the list in his head, then called everyone.  "I'll be posting the final outcome tomorrow, on the Common room notice board.  You all can check for the results after lunch.  Thanks to everyone who tried out."  Harry was relieved that the ordeal was over.  Tyra scribbled down what he recited to her after the students had cleared the field.  "Chasers are Dean Thomas, Euan Abercrombie, and Neville Longbottom.  Beaters are Ginny Weasley and Colin Creevey.  Keeper is obviously Ron and I am the Seeker."  Tyra scribbled with her quill furiously.  

       "Got it.  It's all right here."  She handed him the parchment and rubbed his shoulders to relax him a little.  Harry smiled slightly, relieved.  

       "I have to say I agree with your decisions.  It was a circus out there!" Ron grumbled, running his fingers through his red hair.  It stuck up in different directions.  Hermione smoothed it subconsciously and shouldered her impossible load of books.  

       "I hate to say it, but I was beginning to wonder if it would take all night," Tyra stated, grinning at Harry.  "You looked so…regal up there on your broom."  Harry snickered, poking her.  She never ceased to amuse him, although she scared him as well.  She had grown on him as a very good friend.  She seemed to fit with the group well.  Which made him uncomfortable that he was going behind her back and reading about her.  But hadn't her own bird given him directions?   Harry shook his head, trying to push that thought in the back of his brain until he and Ron could read over the book in their room that night.  Harry led the way into the Great Hall, not even bothering to change robes for dinner. Ron did the same, their robes making splashes of scarlet amid the black.  Tyra sank into the seat across from them, Hermione in tow.   They had gotten deep into discussion about the finer points of Arithmancy.   Harry let them go on and on, intent on his treacle tart.  His head was beginning to hurt again.  It was just a dull ache at first, but it was quickly becoming stronger.  He pushed his tart away, suddenly nauseated.  Tyra interrupted herself mid-sentence.  "Harry?"  she asked, concern clear.

        "Are you all right?" Hermione finished worriedly.  Ron had a huge mouthful of food, but looked intently at his friend.  As he started to double over, Ron grabbed him by the elbow and heaved him to his feet.  Tyra and Hermione chased them out of dinner, food forgotten.  Malfoy seemed to be the only one who noticed them leaving.  It was a good thing they had left, because no sooner than they had cleared the door, Harry blacked out completely.  Tyra rushed over and helped Ron support his limp weight.  Hermione picked up Tyra's forgotten bag and trotted after them toward the infirmary.  It was clear after a few moments that the stairs would be next to impossible to navigate carrying him.  Tyra fumbled through her jean pockets for her wand.  

        "_Moblicorpus," she muttered, and Harry was suddenly lifted horizontally.  Tyra guided him up the stairs with her wand.  _

        "I should have thought of that one," Hermione said, angry with herself.  Ron took Tyra's bag from Hermione and they followed the floating form of Harry and the distracted Tyra as they rounded the final corner to the infirmary.  

        "What happened here?" Madame Pomfrey chided, making room on a spare bed for Tyra to set Harry on.  

        "We're not exactly sure, Madame Pomfrey.  He just…blacked out," Hermione explained, taking the task as spokesperson.  

        "Let's have a look then."  She scurried around the bed.  Tyra took her bag from Ron and leaned against the wall, well out of the way.  Hermione took the chair next to the bedside, Ron hovering over her shoulder.  It wasn't Tyra's place to shove her way in.  They were Harry's friends first.  She contented herself with humming a little tune, waiting to be certain he was okay.  "He'll be fine."  She filled a dropper full of foul-smelling liquid and trickled it into the corner of his mouth.  Harry spluttered at the taste, shaking his head and sitting up suddenly.  

        "He's close!" Harry shouted, clutching his head and trying to force his emerald eyes to focus.  Behind half-lidded eyes, he could see Voldemort standing in a cluster of trees.  He couldn't make out the surroundings, but the picture sent a new wave of pain in its wake. 

        "You're delirious, Dear.  Relax."  Madame Pomfrey settled him back against the pillows. She gave him a beaker of water and a headache potion.  He took them both and gulped them down. 

        "You going to be all right?" Ron asked, managing a half-smile for Harry's benefit.  

        "I'll be fine."  Hermione hugged Harry.  "Madame Pomfrey, I swear I am all right, can I go please?"

        "I suppose.  Mr. Weasley, walk with him in case he decides to collapse on us again."  Madame Pomfrey pursed her lips.  "And come up between classes tomorrow for more headache potion, if you need it."

        "He will," Hermione assured, standing close to make sure Harry could get to his feet.  Tyra watched with slight amusement.  The behavior was odd, but she knew it meant only one thing.  Harry was connected to Voldemort by the scar, she had seen him clutching it like it were about to tear open.  She didn't know why she was so amused, but she was.  "Tyra?  Are you coming?"  
        "Of course, forgive me.  I was dozing off over here.  Must be tired."  By her tone, Harry knew she was hiding something from them, but decided later would be a better time to confront her about it.  He allowed her the moment to think about things as they made their way to Gryffindor tower.  

        "I have hall duty tonight!" Ron realized, smacking his forehead.  "You too, Hermione.  Remember?  It's Gryffindor night."  Hermione nodded, glancing at Harry and Tyra apologetically.  

        "I've got him.  Get a move on," she said, smiling for their benefit.  She placed herself next to Harry, allowing her arm to keep him steady.  

        "You seemed a little distant back there.  Are you all right?"  he asked her, trying his best not to question her about the past, demand that she tell him.  

        "Fine.  A little shaken, is all.  I assume HE is Voldemort?" Harry nodded slightly in confirmation, stumbling slightly. "And you can feel when he's happy and stuff?  No wonder Snape will be giving you Occlumency lessons."

        "You actually know what Occlumency is?" he snorted.

        "The study of psychic defense.  Shutting your mind to people.  Dad says it is a hard thing to master.  He says only Dumbledore and Snape can do it, as far as he knows.  I should say Dad said," she stated, face falling.  

        "Will you tell me about the past, Tyra?"

        "Soon, Harry.  Soon, I promise.  I am still coming to terms with it, coming to terms with myself.  Rest assured I will tell you though."  Tyra steadied him as they climbed into the portrait hole. "Please don't think I am trying to keep anything from you."

        "I don't."  Harry felt like he was lying.  The truth was, he felt like she was keeping something from him, and he wanted to know why.  He wanted to demand the truth from her that instant, make her sit down and spill her guts.  But it wasn't fair of him to think that.  She had just lost her father and was an orphan now.  It wasn't the wisest time to press the issue.  Sighing, he came to an inner understanding.  Being patient was hard, but he'd have to settle for it.  After all, he still had the book… "Would you help me to bed? I think I need to lay down after all."  Tyra didn't question him, instead helped him up the boys' staircase and stopped outside his door.  "Goodnight, Tyra."

        "Goodnight, Harry.  I hope you feel better tomorrow."  Tyra leaned over and kissed his cheek.  Harry rubbed the spot dumbly before letting himself into his bedroom.  It was empty.  On the weekends, no one went to bed early.  He pulled on his pajamas and drew the curtains around his bed before heaving the volume from the library.  He flipped through the pages until he found Gordeeva, Tyra (Page 3327).  He scanned the list of names.  Tyra was at the bottom, alone.  Her father's family line went back three generations to Thaddeus Gordeeva and Greta Frump.  Her great-grandparents ended the list. On the other side, starting with Tyra's mother, Tatiya, was a huge family tree, going back at least fifty generations.  But it was the last name that caught his eye.  Snape?  Like Professor Snape?  On the same line as her mother's name, over five spaces, was listed Severus Snape.  Severus and Tatiya had the same grandparents.  Tyra was related to Snape?  Cousins?  It was impossible.  But it was staring him in the face.  The looks Snape had given her made sense, as well as the attitude she had toward him in the hall.  It explained a lot, but brought up many more questions.  Like why she was related to Dark Wizards, and if she could be truly trusted at all.  

        Ron came in well after midnight, slumping on the edge of his bed wearily.  He tugged off one shoe, then the other.  He was rather shocked when Harry whispered his name.  "You aren't going to believe what I just learned from looking at the book.  Tyra is related to Snape!"

        "As in scary Potions-master Snape?" Ron asked incredulously.  "Wacky."

        "It makes sense.  I told you how he looks at her.  Like he's trying to remember something.  They're cousins once-removed or something like that.  Still, they are cousins, which means they are related.  Tyra's mum was a Snape.  It makes sense though," he continued, talking mostly to himself.  "Mum was always sticking up for Snape in the memories I have seen.  If her mum and mine were best friends, that would give my mum a reason to back Snape up.  This is odd.  Can we trust her?"  
        "I don't know, Harry.  Why don't we talk about this to Hermione in the morning?  She might have an idea.  I am tired."  Seamus Finnigan stirred slightly.  Harry took it as a sign.  Rolling over, he forced himself to go to sleep, despite the millions of questions running through his mind.  

        Ron was up early, despite turning in late.  He shook Harry awake and they went down to the common room together.  Hermione was up as well, mulling over some History of Magic notes for Professor Binns' class.  "So, tell me again.  And tell Hermione," Ron prompted.  

        "Tyra and Snape are cousins.  Her mom and Snape have the same grandparents."

        "Seriously?"  Hermione looked up from her notes, eyebrow raised.  "Harry, seriously.  Remember what Sirius told you?  There isn't one pureblood family that isn't related in some way to the next.  You can't go thinking Tyra is a Dark Witch just because she's related to Professor Snape!  You know Dumbledore trusts Snape implicitly.  Let it go."  Harry wondered how she knew exactly what he was thinking.

        "I never thought of it that way," Ron admitted.  "I wonder if she even knows?"  
        "I'm sure she does.  I am sure she saw him at least once when she was little.  If her mum and Snape were cousins," Hermione told them.  "If that's all, I am going to finish studying.  You two should be doing your homework as well.  NEWTS come next year."  Ron rolled his eyes at Harry.  Tyra came down the stairs, cradling the newly reborn Taranon in her arms.  He was almost totally bald, but his little eyes were sharp and shining.  

        "Isn't he cute?" she asked, looking down at him.  When she looked up, she noticed the wary expressions on the faces of her friends.  "What is it?  You look like someone stole your Canary Creams and Honeydukes Chocolate."  Tyra sat down slowly in the free armchair across the table from her friends.

        "It's nothing," Harry said quickly, trying his best not to look guilty.  "We were just discussing NEWTS for next year.  Hermione was telling us the improtance of studying."

        "I should really get on that.  NEWTS are supposed to be terrible.  But then again, so were OWLS, and I did fine."  Tyra shook her head slightly, resting her phoenix in her lap and stroking the soft down of his forehead.  Crookshanks sniffed him tentatively before waddling over and draping himself across Hermione's feet.  She said nothing as the others continued to stare at her.  

        "Oh, you two!  Honestly!" Hermione stuffed her notes in her bag.  "Come on, Tyra.  Let's go get some breakfast while these two sort their issues out.  It's supposed to be a nice day."  Tyra rose, looking back over her shoulder at Harry and Ron before walking out after Hermione.  She wondered what was going on, but guessed Hermione would be uncomfortable telling her.  Something had set them off, she just had to figure out what.  

        "Well, that was nice and comfy," Ron pointed out sarcastically.  "Maybe Hermione is right.  After all, she certainly doesn't act evil, and she wasn't sorted into Slytherin either."  Harry nodded distractedly.  His friends were most likely right.  He was just overreacting.  

        "Let's go and apologize.  I feel terrible."  Harry forced himself to walk down to breakfast.  Something still seemed off, but he couldn't figure out what.   

_A/N:  Thanks for the review telling me the first chapter was messed up.  I am currently fighting with my computer to fix it._

_I know this chapter is shorter than the others, but it said all I wanted it to.    _

_Thanks to Cory for begging me to repost this!!!!!_


	4. Flashes of Green

        Tyra was bent over her Defense Against the Dark Arts paper on the ways to fend off werewolves when Harry and Ron appeared.  Hermione gave them both a very meaningful look as they seated themselves across the breakfast table.  Snape had been subbing for their DADA class, and Harry was wondering if Dumbledore would ever find a replacement teacher.  He understood Tyra's attention to detail.  Especially since Snape was her cousin.  Her was thinking on it again.  Shaking his head, he put on the most pleasant smile he could muster.  "How's it going?" Harry asked brightly.

        "I don't want to write a report on them.  Can't I just bring Remus in?  Will that get me credit for the assignment?"

        "Somehow I don't think Snape would appreciate it.  Lupin isn't his favorite person in the world," Ron explained.  

        "I was only kidding," she chided, grinning a lop-sided grin.

        "Sorry if we seemed a little strange earlier," Harry said sheepishly.  Tyra could tell he wasn't used to apologizing.  She managed a smile.  

        "You don't have to tell me why if you don't want to.  But I _would _be glad to clarify anything that may have upset you if it pertains to me."   She turned her attention back to the paper, Taranon letting out a peep of agreement before snuggling down in her robes.  She bit into her toast, giving Harry time to consider what he was doing.  

        "Is that Tonks at the table there?  Next to Snape?" Hermione asked suddenly.  Tonks, with her bright pink hair, was very easy to pick out amid the teachers.  

        "It is!"  Tyra said excitedly.

        "Wonder what she's doing here?"

        "Rumor has it that lady is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts Teacher!" Neville whispered.  

        "Cool!" Ron exclaimed.  Tonks seemed to have noticed them, for she waved.  Tyra grinned widely, nudging Harry under the table.  He waved as well before digging into his bacon.  Hedwig came in with the other owls to deliver a copy of the Daily Prophet and a letter.  The letter was nondescript, other than the familiar star-shaped gold wax seal holding it securely.  Tyra stared at it with terrified eyes, looking as though she might run. It was addressed to Harry alone, but no doubt had come from the same person who had sent the threat.  Harry opened it slowly, allowing the wax to crumble between his fingers before smoothing the paper.  He finally took a deep breath and started reading.  

        _Mr. Potter,_

_                If you want to solve the mystery of Tyra Gordeeva, you must take her phoenix.  The bird can reveal all._

_                        A Concerned Friend_

        "This is strange," Harry muttered, shoving the letter in his pocket.  He knew he shouldn't trust the letter, that much was certain.  But he wondered how anyone would know he had been snooping into Tyra's past in the first place.  He shook his head slightly when Ron opened his mouth.  "Tyra, can I ask you something?"

        "Sure, Harry, what is it?"

        "Are you related to Professor Snape?"  
        "Yes," she replied, brow furrowing.  "Was that the issue?"  Harry nodded slightly.  "Well, rest assured Severus and I spend very little time together.  He used to come see us on the holidays, back when my mom was still alive.  He was much more fun and lively back then.  He's always been quiet though."

        "You said Taranon found you?"

        "Yes, why?"

        "No reason, I was just curious."  Hermione lowered her eyes, then looked sideways at Harry from beneath her lashes.  

        "Okay, anything else?"  
        "No.  I'm fine, really."  He worked to reassure her.  She looked as though he might faint at any moment.  It was almost irritating, but at the same time nice to know she cared.  She shrugged and neatly crossed a "t" before putting her quill down.  She rolled the parchment after powdering it to set the ink.  Wrapping it with a ribbon, she tucked it safely into her bag.  

        "Want me to post the Quidditch list for you, so you don't get mobbed?" she offered.

        "That's be great, thanks."  Tyra took the parchment from Harry and waved to them as she left the hall. 

        "What is it, Harry?"  He shared the content of the letter with his friends.  "That's odd," Hermione mused.  "I wonder why they gave you that lead."

        "I think someone wants me to delve into Tyra's past for them.  But the strange thing is, she doesn't seem evasive.  I'd rather ask her to tell me herself."

        "Maybe there's something even she doesn't know."  Ron just glanced back and forth between his friends as though they were a highly entertaining tennis game.  

        "I don't know, but there is just something strange going on here.  Dumbledore tells me I can learn from her, she's related to Snape, and now this whole thing about her phoenix.  It just doesn't make sense."  Harry shook his head.  "I have to do that stupid Potions homework for Snape."  He excused himself in this manner, leaving Hermione and Ron sitting at the table staring at one another.  Was Harry really so suspicious as that?  Shrugging, Ron, trailed after him, leaving Hermione bent over her Arithmancy book with a quill.  

        Tyra was finishing posting the list as Harry walked into the common room.  She was alone, except for Taranon and Crookshanks skittering around her ankles.  "Oh, hey Harry.  You surprised me," she said, smiling as she sank into a chair.  

        "Tyra, do you have anything to hide from me?"  Tyra just stared hard at him, as though trying to gather her thoughts.  

        "Why would I, Harry?  I'm not a Dark Witch, if that's what you were thinking.  I abhor my mother's side of the family for working for Voldemort.  But remember, Harry, my mom was good.  She was there to defend your family.  I feel bad that she failed and all, but Lily Potter was Mom's best friend.  You can't possibly assume that my family's past passes to everyone in my family."  She stared even harder at him.  "What is it?"

        "Why won't you tell me about the past, Tyra?  Why?"

        "You know it's still painful, Harry.  Why do you ask questions when you already know the answer?"  Tears welled in her eyes.  Ron and Hermione had entered, careful to stay away from the two as they spoke.  

        "Lily and James Potter were my parents.  They died.  I was raised in Muggle hell by my aunt and uncle, and I am still able to talk about my past.  You could tell me about yours."  Tyra blinked as the tears began to trace her cheeks.  Harry felt slightly guilty about making her cry, but he needed to know.

        "Maybe we could do this somewhere less…public?" Hermione suggested.  "Let's go visit Hagrid."  Tyra nodded her head once in assent.   Harry finally relented, allowing himself to be led across the grounds.  He regretted not having brought his cloak as the chilly air swirled around them.  Tyra was cold too, she was trembling violently.  Harry was certain it was nerves as well, though.  Hagrid's hut had smoke curling from the chimney, and Fang's familiar booming bark greeted them as they knocked at the door.  

        "'Ello, 'Ermione!  'Arry, Ron, Tyra."  Hagrid saw Tyra's face and opened the door more widely, ushering them inside.  "What brings you 'ere?"  He chuckled as Taranon skittered into his lap and settled himself.  

        "I urged Harry to come here so that Tyra could explain her past.  Harry would have had her crying in front of all of Gryffindor."

        "Well, then," Hagrid said, beetle-black eyes widening slightly as he cleared his throat.  His bushy eyebrows raised almost comically as he gestured to the chairs around his table and set about making tea over the fire.  Ron and Hermione seated themselves in Hagrid's over-sized armchair together, trying to remain out of the picture.  

        "What do you want to know?" Tyra asked, swallowing.  "Hermione, you may as well take notes on this.  Dumbledore will want to know it anyway."  

        "I think the beginning is a good place as any to start," Harry suggested.  

        "Don't be surprised if I am very detailed.  I have a very clear memory, after all my dreams.  I guess the earliest memory I have was when you were born.  We always visited Lily and James every Sunday for afternoon tea.  The topic of conversation was always the same, though I didn't really understand.  Voldemort and the Death Eaters."  She paused a moment to be certain Hermione could keep up.  "You were tiny.  Mom told me that we would grow up to be very good friends, that we could play when you got bigger.  I guess that's all one-and-a-half-year-olds really think about.  Your mother was always so nice to me, she used to take me out and swing me on a tree swing your dad had made for them.  Sirius Black was over a lot as well, right after you were born.  He always had something small for me, told me I was his friend.  He must have spent more time holding you than your dad on those Sundays.  Anyhow, things started getting more and more tense.  You were getting bigger and bigger all the time, and then you started stumbling around on your feet.  I was nearly three when the time came and Dumbledore came to call upon your parents.  He said it was no longer safe for your family to remain out in the open.  They would have to cast a very powerful secret-keeping spell to keep your family safe.  My mother offered to be the secret-keeper, but Dumbledore told her that our family would be needed to walk the perimeter and keep an eye out for the Death Eaters.  We would be there at the time the spell was cast to be sure you had a supply of food and company.  Sirius was the natural choice, he'd rather die than give up your family.  He was fiercely loyal, or so my dad told me.  But something went awry.  See, I know Sirius would never have given you up, but for some reason Voldemort found you guys. I never found out why, though Dad had his ideas.  But I remember the night it happened.  Dad had gone to report to Dumbledore for some reason, and Mom was off for the night from patrolling.  I was sleeping downstairs on the couch when the door burst open.  My mother shoved me under the stairs into the cupboard, and went to confront the Death Eaters.  I watched as she fell from some sort of spell.  Your father was in the kitchen.  He headed them off at the stairs, shouting "Lily, take Harry!"   I was too terrified to move or do anything.  All I could do was watch as everything turned sick green and your dad fell as well."  Tyra paused again.  "Some of this I know cause dad told me."  She cleared her throat before continuing.  "I finally found my feet, and when I though the coast was clear, I left the cupboard and was about to follow the robed figures up the stairs.  That was when my cousin Severus grabbed me from behind and threw a hand over my mouth.  I couldn't do anything, I was frozen.  HE was one of them, all dressed in black.  He took me outside, told me to hide in the bushes.  I heard your mom scream, and saw the green light through the window.  And then…it was weird.  This cloud of black ash drifted down the stairs and outside.  Death Eaters were running all over, fleeing the house and the area.  I was almost stepped on by a few, but I didn't dare move.  The last thing I remember of the flight was Severus, holding a finger to his lips and chasing after the others.  I wanted to scream at him, pummel him, but I was just a little kid and I guess I just…couldn't.  When Dad came back and found me later, he found the rest as well.  We went up to your room, fully expecting you to be dead too.  But there you were, asleep in your crib, a scar on your forehead.  Dad told me to sit down and leaned over you.  You were breathing.  I remember Dumbledore coming for you, and telling Dad that he had to take me away from there.  We fled to the United States with help from the Ministry.  I never saw you again, til now.  Dad told me other stories about how you had somehow managed to defeat Voldemort.  He told me never to be afraid, because there was always hope.  But he left something out, something I still haven't figured out myself.  I was told Taranon found me, but I don't remember how he came to be near me.  I was also told that I would never be able to come back here, but I'm here.  I remember all these faces, Remus, Peter Pettigrew, and of course, Dumbledore.  He came to see me from time to time.  I tried to tell him my cousin was a Death Eater, but he told me to think again, because I would most likely not be alive if Severus hadn't hidden me.  I am still confused.  I don't know what to believe, Harry.  But that's all I know, I swear."  Harry shook his head, the memories floating behind his half-closed lids like a picture show.  Things were even clearer after she explained them.  

        "Peter Pettigrew was the secret-keeper, Tyra.  He was working for Voldemort, and gave my family up.  It wasn't Sirius."  Tyra nodded slightly.

        "I don't know why my family is so important to Voldemort.  I know why you are, but not why I am.  I mean, I am an average teenager.  My dad raised me overseas and came to work here.  Everything seemed so…normal.  And now the only person who can give me answers, I am so afraid of I don't know if I acknowledge him as family at all.  Maybe I just remind Voldemort of you.  That's all I can think of.  I just don't know.  Dad told me you would be at school here.  I remembered this tiny toddler, but here you are, a real person, not just some dream.  It's like looking at the past all over again everytime I see you.  You look just like your dad."  Harry felt angry tears stinging his eyes.  She was so intimate about his family.  He wondered why his mother and hers had been such good friends.  "If it's okay with you, I'd rather not go any further into it right now."  Harry nodded slightly, watching as she curled as small as she could in the chair and wrapped her arms around her legs.  Hermione finished her note taking with a flourish, re-reading her own writing.  Hagrid was surprisingly subdued. 

        "She's right, yeh know.  Her dad found yeh.  Dumbledore had just sent them away when I came ta get yeh and take yeh to yer aunt's."  

Tyra spent the next few days in a terrible silence, allowing herself contact with Taranon alone.  Something seemed so strange about the bird, now that Harry had gotten the note about him.  He seemed to have a huge affect on Tyra's behavior.  Once again, he tried not to think about it.  The circumstances were odd.  He knew then why Tyra hadn't wanted to discuss it.  

_A/N: I didn't intend for the plot to flow this fast, it just is.  I promise this will get less confusing soon.  _

_As per the usual, I would like to clarify that the characters except for Tyra and her parents are the property of J.K. Rowling.  As much as I wish  I had half of her genius, I don't.  Thanks to those who read this._


	5. The Truth in Identity

"Miss Gordeeva, can I speak to you please?"  Tyra turned slowly to find Professor Snape leaning in the doorway to his dungeon.

"Certainly, Professor."  Tyra pried herself away from the seventh-year boys that were arguing over her head and trotted back the way she had just come.  "What can I do for you?"  Snape gestured her into his room coolly, closing the door.  Tyra knew Harry would miss her at dinner, but she was too curious to care.  She was also terrified, her stomach fluttering like it contained all the butterflies in the known universe.  She wondered why after all the years of silence, he had chosen to speak to her.  Obviously she wasn't in trouble.  He wasn't being curt.  He was actually being polite as far as his demeanor went.  

"Please, have a seat."  His attempt at kindness made her slightly nervous, but she did as she was told.  "Headmaster Dumbledore tells me you told Mr. Potter everything, and that Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger were present."

"Yes, Professor, I did.  Dumbledore would have made me anyhow."  Snape said nothing, only nodded and smoothed his greasy hair.  

"How many people know we're…related?"

"Just those three, Hagrid, and whoever else knew Mom well enough, I suppose.  But as far as students go, only those three." Snape nodded again.

"Is there anything you wanted to ask me?"  Tyra blinked once in surprise, wondering why he was coming to her now.  

"First thing is, why now?  Why not come and see me while I was living overseas?"  
        "I was still in touch with Lord Voldemort and it would not have been safe."  Tyra guessed that seemed an honest enough answer.

"Why did you hide me?"  Snape stared hard at her for a moment.  If he admitted to her what he was really thinking, people might learn he had a heart under his hard exterior.  

"Your mother was my favorite cousin.  Neither of us had any siblings.  I guess we were like brother and sister in a way.  If I could have, I would have saved your mother, Tyra.  But it would have blown my cover as a spy and I would have been dead.  That wouldn't have been much use, would it?"  Tyra shook her head again.  She was shocked to see his softer side.  He sighed.  "It's no secret that I disliked James Potter, but never enough to see him dead.  I have seen things that would…sicken a lesser person."

"What made you decide to tell me this now?"  Snape sat silent for a moment, fingers intertwining.  He met her eyes.  She thought she saw a glimmer of sympathy.

"Well, you are almost old enough now to take care of yourself.  Be that as it may, I am your Godfather."  Tyra's mouth dropped open in a little "O" of surprise.  "I can't say I will be a good one to you, but you do have the right to know the truth.  In fact, Dumbledore insisted I tell you this."  Tyra blinked once more, but waited for him to continue.  "I don't pretend to know you or what you are like.  But I do want to let you know the option is open.  I know I don't seem like the warmest person in the world, but…"

"You have to be hard.  I understand.  I don't expect you to treat me any differently than any other student, if that's what you were worried about."  Snape blinked owlishly.  The girl was sharper than he had given her credit for.  "I have to admit, I am terrified of you.  It isn't exactly the best start, is it?"

"Why?"

"You…you were a Death Eater.  As much as I would like to think that people change, I can only go by what I remember.  Were you there when my father died as well?"

"No, I wasn't."  Tyra wanted to slap him and hug him at the same time.  She was aware of the difficulty involved in his show of emotion.  He was a notoriously bitter man.  She found herself daring to believe him.  Harry would be very upset, she knew.  If Harry found out.  

"I assume you called me here to keep this quiet, right?  I mean, I always feel like there has to be some reason to meeting with my teachers during lunch, even if they are my cousin and Godfather."  

"Actually, I leave that to your discretion.  Tyra, you have to understand how hard this is.  I…feel something for you, it's touched me deeply since you reappeared.  You have eyes just like your mother's.  I just…"

"Can't express it.  Let me start."  Tyra rose from her seat and threw her arms around his neck.  Snape was taken aback at this, and patted her back awardly a couple of times.  "I will give you a chance.  Just because you were one way doesn't mean you couldn't change.  And if it is forgiveness you want, it has been pointed out by Professor Dumbledore numerous times that you saved me from death.  I owe you my life."  Snape had a very strange look, almost a shadow of a smile, on his face.  "Well, that said, I have one more question.  Outside of the classroom, what can I call you?"

"As long as it is between you and me, you can call me whatever you like, so long as it isn't dripping honey."  Tyra laughed at this, her laughter clear and feminine.

"Can I go then, Severus?  They'll miss me at lunch."  Snape managed a true smile.  

"Yes, Tyra.  We'll talk more later."  Tyra felt very odd having seen a totally different side of a man she typically thought of as a tyrant.  For a moment it was like reliving her early toddler years, when he would come over and pelt snowballs at her.  Time and experience had made him bitter.  She hoped that if there was one part of his life that could be right, she would to be in it.  She hurried up the stairs and into the Great Hall.  

"There you are."  Hermione smiled and grabbed her hand.  "What happened?"  
        "You know Snape.  He made me clean up because I mouthed off at him."  Ron grimaced sympathetically. "I got lucky this time.  No detention."  Harry smiled at her, obviously irriated by Colin Creevey, who ran by every few seconds thanking him for letting him play Quidditch.  "That good of a day, eh, Harry?"  Harry laughed, a barking laugh from his throat.  

"Wonderful.  I got double the usual homework from Snape, I have Quidditch practice tonight, and none of my good classes til tomorrow.  I am just a little tired, and I think…there it is…my foot is itchy!"  Tyra snickered at his sarcasm.  Ron nodded, biting his lower lip.  

"Christmas is coming.  Mum invited everyone to our place for the holidays.  Even you, Tyra."  Tyra nodded.  She wondered what Severus was doing for Christmas.  It would be fun to meet the whole Weasley clan.  She had seen the better part of them on the platform the day she had come to school.  She wondered if Severus would allow her to go.

"That's sweet of her.  Think I'd drive your brothers batty?"  Ron laughed. 

"Fred and George found you fascinating.  They're twins, you know."  

"I'll make sure it's okay," she replied.  No one else but Harry seemed to catch the remark.  

"Has anyone seen Taranon since yesterday?"

"No," Harry answered for them all.  It was true.  She hadn't had the phoenix around for the past couple of days.  It was highly unusual to see them separate.  

"That's odd.  He almost never leaves me.  I use the school owls for letters, Dad always told me Taranon was too flashy.  I wonder where he's gotten to?"  She heaved her bag onto the table.  The day was getting stranger and stranger.  

"That is weird," Hermione agreed, looking meaningfully at Harry.  He inclined his head slightly.  "He hasn't been in his cage?"

"No, he usually just sits in the common room and waits for me when he doesn't go to classes with me.  I always refrain from taking him to Potions with me, he distracts everyone.  I left him in the common room two days ago just before Potions, and he's been gone since.  It isn't unlike him to go out and fly for a bit, but he's still early on in his transformation for that."  She shrugged.  "I'm sure he'll show up."  Harry was suspicious about that.  The anonymous writer had mentioned that her phoenix would help him to understand her.

Tyra, Harry noticed, was now wearing the Gryffindor lion just like everyone else in her house.  She seemed a little more jumpy than usual.  Draco Malfoy approached the table with a smug grin.  "Hey, Tyra, how did you take the news?"

"What news, Malfoy?" she drawled back.  

"You can't tell me you're keeping secrets from Potty and his fan club."  Harry glanced at Tyra, who had a mask of cold fury pasted on.  

"And I want to know why you're over here at all.  This is the Gryffindor table.  Slytherins not welcome.  Or didn't you see the invisible sign that says "No snotty little brown-nosing snakes allowed"?"  Ron was ready to pat her on the back for that remark.  

"Well, what are you doing here then?  Or did your worthless father make you weak?"

"My father wasn't worthless!"  she shouted, drawing her wand.  "_Silencio Vocal!"_  Malfoy tried to shout a spell, but no words came out.  He grabbed at his throat in horror, snarled silently, and jumped at her.  

"Tyra Gordeeva!"  Professor McGonagall looked very infuriated.  "Mr. Malfoy, kindly sit down.  We do not, under any circumstances, use magic on another student!  Ten points from Gryffindor for your poor judgment, and detention.  However, I saw Malfoy provoking you, so that will be ten points from Slytherin and a detention for you as well, Mr. Malfoy.  This isn't the first time.  Miss Granger, Mr. Weasley, take Mr. Malfoy to the hospital wing.  Miss Gordeeva, Mr. Potter, follow me please."    
        "This wasn't Harry's fault!" Tyra argued.

"I didn't say it was.  Come."  Tyra tried not to shout anything else in her anger.  Harry put a restraining hand on her arm and led her away.  

"He was insulting my father!" she burst, looking incredibly dangerous.  

"This is something else entirely, I assure you.  You'd do well to calm yourself, Miss Gordeeva.  There is a large group here to see the two of you."  Tyra bit her lip almost until it bled, eyes shooting daggers at no one in particular.

"It's okay," Harry whispered, taking her hand.  She squeezed it for reassurance.  Professor McGonagall closed the door to Dumbledore's office softly.  Snape, Remus Lupin, Tonks, Mad-eye Moody, and Ron's father were all standing around his desk in no particular arrangement.  Tyra and Harry exchanged glances before sitting down.  

"Harry is already aware of the Order of the Phoenix.  You may remember that there were a lot of people coming and going aroung your home, Tyra.  They were all part of this order as well.  We were created to defend against Lord Voldemort. You've met most of these people. This is Ron Weasley's father, Arthur."

"Pleased to meet you," she said in the most polite tone she could manage.  

"I suppose that since your father came here, you knew that Lord Voldemort had risen."  One nod.  "You must also be aware that we had hoped you would remain behind to finish your schooling, but that was unavoidable under the circumstances."

"But why?" Harry asked for her.  

"Tyra was keeping something for us. Something very important to the Order.  Taranon, the blue phoenix, was sent to live with Tyra and her father.  We had the express permission from Headmaster Tippin at Eaglefeather Academy that the bird would be most welcome.  Professor McGonagall overheard you telling Harry and friends that you couldn't find him.  Is this true?"

"It most certainly is."  Tyra looked as puzzled as he.  

"Taranon isn't really a phoenix.  He's a transfigured item."  Harry shook his head.  

"What is he, then?" Tyra asked.

"He's a book containing the names of all known Death Eaters.  It's not unlike the family history book Harry found in the library.  It keeps updated information on the Death Eaters and their duties.  It would have been invaluable to our cause."

"I'll say."  Harry blinked twice, as though trying to assure himself he wasn't dreaming again.  

"Do you have any idea where Taranon could have gone?" Mad-eye Moody asked.  She blinked in surprise as his normally roving eye focused on her.  

"No, Sir."  Tyra lowered her head.  "I didn't know."

"You weren't expected to.  In fact, I am not surprised at all."  Moody looked over at Tonks, who was playing with her fingers.  His gruff voice sounded surprisingly gentle.

"But we did lose an important weapon.  All we can do is wait and see if he returns. If not, we'll have to think of something else.  Harry, I want you to promise me you won't leave Hogwarts, no matter what you see in your dreams."  Dumbledore was staring intently at Harry. 

"I promise."  Harry felt very ashamed.  Had he remained behind last time he'd had a dream, Sirius would still be alive.  Sirius wouldn't have fallen through the gateway to nothingness.  And it was Harry's fault.  Tyra raised an eyebrow, but said nothing.  

"We'll find the bird, I don't want either of you looking for him.  Now, go get some sleep.  You've helped all you can."  Tyra's cheeks burned red as she got to her feet and took Harry's outstretched hand.  She felt somehow guilty for the loss.  She should have paid better attention.  But Taranon never left if not for a good reason.  She wondered if the Death Eaters had caught him when he went out.  Harry was hanging his head slightly, and she was selfishly absorbed in thoughts.  

"Want to talk, Harry?"  Tyra inquired, tightening her hold on his hand.  

"Not really."  Tyra nodded, but said nothing further on the subject.  Ron and Hermione were up waiting for them.  Tyra explained while Harry gathered his game face.  He was slightly grateful she had taken the initiative to explain.  

"A phoenix book?  Sounds like an impossible bit of Transfiguration."  Hermione was thoughtful.  

"Of course, it is possible.  We've seen  Taranon with our own eyes.  I wonder who did it?" Tyra was pensive.  

"Harry?  Why were you dragged along?"  Ron asked.

"To promise Dumbledore I wouldn't leave to find him."  Harry's cheeks brightened as he forced himself to smile.  "I guess they know me well.  Dumbledore seemed very frustrated that Taranon was gone."

"No kidding, if it is what they say it is."  Ron bit his lip in thought.  

                                                                                                ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

_A/N: I know that Snape and Tyra's relationship is highly uncharacteristic, but I wanted to see if I could come up with a touch of a valid reason why he was bitter, and find some feelings underneath all that Snape-ness.  The phoenix is the main reason I wrote Tyra in the first place.  It makes better sense than having a phoenix just show up.  Not only that, but I am using her primarily to fill in the some of the speculation on things with an idea of what might have happened.  I like to try and make up good reasons why things are the way they are.  Call me scientifically curious._

_Thanks to those who reviewed._

_And once again, thanks to J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and friends were created.  Tyra, Taranon, and Tyra's parents are my own creations.  J.K. is a genius.  __J___


	6. A Festive Thought

_This chapter is Dedicated to Akasha Ravensong!!!! __J___

Christmas came quickly.  Snape was in agreement she should join the Weasleys. He would be back to work, spying on the Death Eaters for Dumbledore.  Certainly not something she fancied doing over Christmas break.  She climbed into the train with her friends.  Hermione would be going to visit her parents instead of taking up the invitation to go to the Burrow.  Harry and Tyra were overjoyed at being allowed to go.  "What's your mom like?" she's ask Ginny and Ron over and over again.  

"I'd be more worried about my brothers," Ron chided her, looking out the window.  Harry and Ron started a game of Exploding Snap, which Ginny and Neville joined promptly.  Neville was enjoying his last few minutes with his girlfriend before seeing her off to her parents'.  Hermione buried her nose in her latest bit of "light reading", _A Treatise on the Uses of Ground Unicorn Horn in Potion Making.  Tyra contented herself to watch her friends, paying close attention to Harry.  For all the losses in his life, he seemed happy enough.  She wondered if she would ever be half as tough as the boy who defeated Lord Voldemort.  Harry was an idol of sorts to her, proof that life could go on after sorrow.  _

"Are you coming, Tyra?"  Harry prodded her.  She had hardly noticed that the train had stopped.  

"Sorry," she replied weakly, grabbing her duffel bag which she had packed for the short holiday.  

"There they are!" Arthur pointed, and Molly attacked her children with loving ferocity.  Ron was covered in kisses from freckled nose to fiery ear-tips.  Ginny took her mother's affection with good grace and stood aside as she hugged Harry more than once and smoothed his hair.  

"You must be Tyra," she said, smiling and hugging the girl.  Tyra instantly liked Molly Weasley.  

"Thank you for inviting me," she answered, nodding shyly.  She had never been shy in her life.  She didn't have long to admire the scene before the twins pounced on her.  

"Fred,"

"George," the pair said in unison, shaking both of her hands at the same time.  She laughed melodiously, glancing back at Harry, who shrugged.  

"You own a joke shop, right?" she asked them, winking at Molly, who grinned impishly.  

"Funny you should ask."

"Yes, indeed we do."

"In Diagon Alley."  Tyra was led off, one on each arm, and talked to death.  Harry and Ron smirked at one another before piling into the tacky Vanagen and bending close together to talk about Quidditch.  It was all in all a merry scene to behold, the red-haired Weasleys and their guests chattering animatedly about many things.  Tyra felt for a moment like she was with her own family again, and she was certain Harry definitely considered the Weasleys his family.  After she had heard his tales about his Aunt and Uncle, she doubted he would ever find love there.  The group climbed out of the vehicle and Tyra found herself dragged toward the house.  Bill and Charlie were there in the doorway.  Charlie's broad face broke into a grin as he rescued Tyra from the onslaught of his younger brothers.  

"Charlie," he said, offering her a calloused hand.  He was tan and handsome, covered in boyish freckles that crinkled when he wiggled his nose.  Tyra found herself liking him immediately.  "Heya, Harry."

"Hi, Charlie."  Harry shook his hand with an amount of gusto, pleased to see the eldest Weasley child again.  "How's Romania?"

"Fascinating.  I found a group of Irish Reds.  I've been tracking them for a few weeks.  There is a clutch of eggs."

"You work with dragons?" Tyra asked excitedly.  This launched a deep conversation between the pair, who seated themselves at the kitchen table.  Harry and Ron hurried off up to his room, leaving the bubbly scene.  

"Somehow I think Charlie has a girlfriend," Ron said in mock-contempt.  

"Ah, leave them be.  Tyra deserves happiness."

"That sounded awfully prophetic coming from someone who has dreams," Ron concluded, looking at Harry.  "Is there something you haven't been telling us?"

"No, no," Harry said, waving his friend away.  However, he was having dreams again.  Dreams of Tyra being captured and tortured by Voldemort as she was forced to give up the key…key to what?  Harry shook his head.  Dumbledore had said to ignore his dreams, to stay with whoever he was sent to stay with, and not to go looking for trouble.  He tried to block the memory from his mind, but it kept surfacing.  There was an ominous tingle from his scar.  Voldemort's laughter haunted him as he slumped on his knees on Ron's floor and attempted to busy himself picking up the pack of self-shuffling cards. 

"Are you all right?"  Ron demanded, resting a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"I'll be fine," Harry said.  "Just a little tired, is all."  Ron nodded, but didn't agree with his friend.  He knew something was wrong by the look on Harry's face, but decided not to press the matter further.  Sometimes they both needed times to think things over.  He could respect that.  

"Harry dear, Ron, come on down for dinner.  I've set the table," Molly pressured from outside the door.

"Coming, Mum," Ron replied for them both, silently helping Harry to his feet.  Harry followed Ron downstairs.  He truly wasn't hungry, especially after the last thing he had been seeing every night in his dream.  Tyra's father's sightless eyes staring back at him from a patch of damp forest ground.  

"There you are, Harry.  I thought you'd hidden from me," Tyra greeted him, hugging him fiercely.  "Charlie has been entertaining me.  Almost makes me want to change my profession if I don't pass the Auror screening."  Charlie grinned from the table, winking at Harry.  Molly winced as she heard Tyra mention she wanted to be an Auror.  

"Ron and I were just getting settled in.  Did you get to look around?"

"Isn't it an awesome house?  Wish mine had been half as nice living in the United States."  This statement caused Ron to blush with pleasure. 

"She sure isn't short of flattery," Arthur noted as she seated herself beside Charlie at the table.

"She's never been accused of being unfriendly," Harry agreed, smiling at his friend when she glanced at him.  A broad smile crossed her features.  It made him feel even more down.  Harry spooned a bite of treacle pudding, one of his favorite desserts, but couldn't convince himself to taste the food.  

"Harry?"  Tyra asked, worry clear on her face.

"I'll talk to you later," he stated, glancing meaningfully at the company.  

"And isn't the orchard lovely?" Tyra asked over-enthusiastically, trying to cover the exchange.  

"We usually practice Quidditch up there," Ron offered.  

"Fred and George as well?  I heard you two were Beaters."  Pleased to have been noticed, both boys bobbed their heads in unison.

"Charlie was a Quidditch player as well," Molly added.  

"What a talented family!"  she said excitedly.  "I can play, but never competitively.  My dad was paranoid of me doing anything involving possible injury.  Guess he was a little over-protective."

"I think your godfather would be too," Arthur stated off-handedly.

"Godfather?" Harry and Ron echoed expectantly.

"Uncle Severus is my godfather," she muttered, reddening.

"Sour-face Snape is your godfather?" Fred exclaimed.

"Admittedly."  She turned her attention back to her food, noting all the stares from around the table. "Oh, honestly, I know he's awful.  I even think so.  But he's my mom's brother, and he was charged with taking care of me.  I couldn't ask for more than someone to support me."

"Weird."  George grinned.  "But kinda cool.  Betcha he's nicer to you in class!"

"Sort of, I guess.  Nicer when we aren't in class."  The table had settled down.  Charlie, Harry noted, grasped Tyra's hand under the table.  He felt a slight pang of jealousy at that, but knew it would pass.  Tyra was never his girlfriend, she was older than he, and she had never been more than his friend.  But somehow he felt a little protective.  Not that Charlie was in the least doing anything to threaten her.    

"Back to work," Arthur snorted.  "Fred, George?"

"We're headed back as well.  See you all tomorrow."  Tyra waved goodbye to the trio as they Disapparated.  

"Well, to bed for me then.  Ginny, will you help with the dishes?"  Ginny obediently followed her mother and the floating dishes to the sink.  Ron set up his chess board for a game with Charlie, leaving Tyra and Harry to their own devices.  

"I've been dreaming," Harry admitted lamely.  

"Occlumency still isn't helping?"

"I'm getting better, but things are harder than they seem when Snape is involved, no offense."

"None taken."  Tyra took his hand in her own, sitting across from him and meeting his gaze with her concerned eyes.  

"I…"

"Don't believe everything you see, Harry.  Dreams are tricky.  The Divination teacher at my old school hounded me for weeks about dreams being dreams.  I used to come tearing in at all hours of the day, asking him what my dream meant."  Harry nodded, not completely reassured, but pleased to know he wasn't the only paranoid one.  

"They are just disturbing.  Lord Voldemort, see, is connected to me through my scar…it cost me the life of my godfather running off after believing one of my dreams."

"Is that how it happened then?"  Tyra asked him softly.  "Well, I don't put a lot of stock in Voldemort.  I say forget him for the moment and enjoy the holiday," Tyra suggested, throwing an arm around his shoulders.  Harry smiled.  If only she saw what he did.  She'd be miserable.  But her advice was sound, so he tried his best to be happy and joined Ron and Charlie to watch their game.  Tyra leaned next to the odd Weasley clock, smiling slightly.  She seemed to feel that something was about to happen.  She had the feelings often enough to trust them.  But let fate take its course.  She'd be ready for whatever it chose to throw at her. 

_A/N:  I know not much happens here.  But it will be worth it, I swear!_

_J.K. Rowling owns all the familiar characters here.  I only claim Tyra and of course, Taranon. _


	7. Momentary Peace

Harry was running through the Forbidden Forest, wand clutched tightly in a stress-white hand.  His palm was clammy, and he stumbled time and again in his panic.  "Tyra!" he shouted, forcing himself to move even faster.  Mud kicked up in his wake, saturating his shoes and pant leg.  He didn't care.  A scream from the next clearing confirmed his worst fear; she had been caught.  

"Give us the key, Child, or we'll be forced to toy with you."  The voice Harry knew from many long nights in dreams, as well as a physical encounter.  Lucius Malfoy was menacing the girl.

"Why should I?"  she returned defiantly.

"_Crucio!"_ he returned, voice evil and deep.  Tyra writhed on the ground, but seemed to be fighting the curse admirably.  It seemed she almost had hold over it when Harry finally reached the clearing and hid himself behind a tree to watch.  He held his breath, peering around the trunk at the scene.  She was sorely outnumbered by Death Eaters, Snape was nowhere to be seen.  Of course, one had a hard time telling when hoods were covering faces.  

"_Accio!"_ she shouted, not thinking clearly enough.  Malfoy's wand left his hand forcefully.  Harry had never seen a wand fly so fast.  "_Rictesempra!"_ she screamed again, forcing two to the ground.  She gave herself just a few moments to attempt an escape.  Harry heard her crash off toward the school throught the trees.  The next words he heard had haunted his dreams for many a night.

_"Avada Kedavra,"_ a sibilant voice said, wand pointing from beneath cloak toward her fleeing back.  Tyra had no chance to dodge.  She hadn't seen the attack coming.  She fell, skidding lifeless along the ground.  Not daring expose himself, he used a roundabout way to get to her.  There she was, dead… 

"Harry!"  Ron was shouting, patting his cheeks.

"I'm up!" Harry screamed, nearly sending Ron across the room.  A pack of concerned faces surrounded him.  The whole household had shown up to wake him.   Tyra's worried eyes staring at him only made him more jumpy. He was sweat-soaked and shaking.  Molly and Ginny were in long nightgowns, the boys in shirts and flannel pants.  Tyra was wearing a tanktop and a pair of shorts with socks.

"That was awful," Tyra whispered, burying her face in Charlie's shoulder.

"How did you do that?" Ron asked.

"Do what?" Harry asked, bewildered.

"Make everyone have the exact same dream," Tyra replied, voice barely a whisper.

"I…don't know.  You…saw?"  Tyra nodded, managing a weak smile. 

"I didn't realize things were that horrible," Ron said.  "I'd be mad if I were you, Mate."  Charlie nodded silent agreement, wrapping his arms around Tyra.  She was visibly shaken.

"Tyra, I swear, I never would have let you know what I saw if it could be avoided.  I don't know how I did that!"

"I believe you," she soothed, removing herself from Charlie's embrace to sit on the bed next to Harry.  She hugged him tightly, resting her head on his shoulder.  "How could I be mad at you?  Like Ron said, it's enough to drive everyone crazy."

"How much did you see?"

"'Til the part where I was tortured," she returned almost calmly.  

"Good.  I mean, not good, but better than…the ending."  Tyra didn't press him for details.

"Well, since we are all awake, I'll make some hot chocolate," she stated.  "If that's all right with you, Molly?"

"Of course, Dear.  I'll make some cinnamon rolls.  Ginny, why don't you help Tyra?"  Ginny followed Tyra from the room. "Harry, she died in your dream, didn't she?"  Harry swallowed hard, nodding dumbly.  Charlie smiled sympathetically.  Ron pursed his lips slightly, saying nothing.  

"I will study harder at Occlumency, I promise.  That shouldn't have happened."

"We'll be sending Dumbledore an Owl," Charlie assured him.  "Now, how about some of that hot chocolate?"  Harry smiled in thanks as Charlie led Molly from the room before she could fuss over him further.

"Wow, that was weird," Ron said.  "Want to discuss it?"

"What's there to discuss?  Ron, I'm sorry."

"No one's blaming you one bit.  Come on, Harry, hot chocolate sounds great."  Ron took his hand and helped him to his feet, sounding a lot more confident than he really felt.

The kitchen was silent, everyone still tired, but afraid to go back to bed.  Tyra seated herself between Harry and Charlie, trying her best to lighten the mood with her antics.  Of all the people who should be terrified, it should have been her.  "Well, now that I've been tortured, how about some Exploding Snap?" she laughed, passing Harry the pack of cards.  He didn't really want to play, but knew she was trying hard to wipe the memory for herself as much as anyone.  He took the deck and started the game, Ron and Charlie and Ginny all joining in.  Tyra was the craziest of them all, sending cards flying in triumph every time she won.  Molly watched them with interest, but soon her eyelids felt heavy.  

"I am going back to bed, I am too old for this," she said, yawning.  "Good night, all of you.  If you want to sleep over in the kitchen, have Charlie move the tables."

"Sounds like fun!" Tyra exclaimed, levitating one of the two tables herself and sending it floating into the next room.  Charlie moved the other.  Tyra conjured up her sleeping bag and pillow and rolled them out on her own.  Ron and Harry and Ginny did the same, spreading out along the edges of the kitchen.  Charlie made his own sleeping bag out of thin air, setting it between Ron and Tyra's.  Tyra zipped herself into her sleeping bag, bare arms wrapped around her pillow.  She was asleep almost instantly. 

"Isn't she unflappable," Charlie remarked.

"It's just a show," Harry explained.  "But a good one.  I feel terrible."

"You can't help it," Ron answered, curling up under his pile of Chudley Cannons blankets.  "Go to sleep, Harry."  Everyone around him had fallen asleep.  Harry listened to the even sounds of his friends' breathing.  Still, he was afraid of what he might see behind closed eyelids.  He contemplated how he could possibly have projected the dream, remembering clearly the time Voldemort had projected a dream in his head.  Was he going evil?  Was he dangerous to his friends?  He had learned the year before that only he could kill Voldemort.  Harry rolled over, pulling the blanket up over his shoulders.  He finally drifted off into fevered sleep, praying for no dreams to plague him.  

"Come on, Harry!  We're going to play Quidditch!" Tyra's voice rang through his foggy mind.  "I'm actually going to play!"  Harry opened his eyes to find her almost touching noses with him.  "There you are!"  She tickled him before stepping back to allow him room.  Charlie, Fred, George, Ron, Ginny, and Tyra were all dressed warmly and had broomsticks slung over their shoulders.  Tyra held a Firebolt over her right shoulder, a soccer ball in the other.  "Isn't the broom wonderful?  Fred and George gave it to me, as an early Christmas present."  Harry nodded, running his fingers absently through his unruly hair before forcing himself to motivate and get to Ron's room and his clothes. Grabbing his broom, he tore down the stairs, dragging his cloak straight around his shoulders.  

"Ready!" he exclaimed.  

"I knew that would get you going," Ron laughed.  The small group trudged up the snow-covered hill and into the orchard, which looked for all the world like a frosted painting.  The group kicked off on their brooms once inside the shelter if the trees.  Tyra was a decent flyer.  Harry assumed she had been forced to learn at school.  Charlie and Ron took turns guaring the "goal" while everyone took turns trying to score on them.  Fred and George chucked golf balls for Harry to catch.  Tyra was the worst of all the players, but she was having a wonderful time.  She was a decent passer, but couldn't even aim to score.  Ron later noted it was Charlie guarding the goal.  

They played well into the morning, laughing and carrying on.  Harry felt a slight chill as he looked through the trees.  He thought he could see a pair of azure eyes watching them.  The sight of them unnerved him.  He stopped mid-catch, ignoring the golf ball that bounced off of his forehead.  "Harry?" Fred inquired, looking off in the direction his eyes wandered.

"Sorry, zoned out for a minute there," he replied, smiling.  "Think I'm a little cold.  Want to go in?" Tyra agreed almost instantly, landing and chasing him down the hill.  Shrugging, the Weasley clan chased their guests.  

The Burrow was all decked out for Christmas.  It smelled of baking cookies and popcorn.  Harry sniffed appreciateively as he kicked off his boots just inside the door.  Molly greeted them with hot chocolate.  "I nearly forgot tonight was Christmas Eve," Tyra said.  "I was having so much fun."

"Think I'll run to Diagon Alley," Charlie said.  "Anything you need, Mum?"

"Nothing, thanks.  Be back before dinner."  Charlie nodded, Disapparating just outside the door.  Ginny and Ron and Harry all sat at the table.  Fred and George left via the back door to "experiment".  Tyra finally slumped in the seat across from Harry and toyed with the handle of her mug.  

"I miss Taranon," she muttered.  

"We do too," Ginny said.  "He was so funny…"  Harry and Ron excused themselves to put their brooms in Ron's room.  Ginny and Tyra got into a discussion about hair cutting with Molly, engaging all three.

"I don't know what to do," Harry stated, staring out Ron's window as the ghoul clanged in agreeable frustration on the pipes.

"Nothing.  Absolutely nothing.  Come on, Harry, it's the holidays.  Let's have fun and worry about this once we are back at school."

"You're right, Ron.  I'm sorry.  You and Hermione always talk sense."  Harry allowed himself to be dragged back down to the cheerful scene in the kitchen.


	8. The World in Reverse

Christmas morning dawned bright and cold.  Fred and George could be heard downstairs, singing uproariously.  Tyra could hear Charlie chiding them, and Ginny rolling over to look at her.  "Ready to get up?" Ginny asked her, wrinkling her nose.  

"Guess so," Tyra muttered in return, tossing her hair as she forced herself to sit up and pulled up her socks.  The girls wandered arm-in-arm down tha stairs, met halfway by Harry and Ron.  "G'mornin'," Tyra greeted them almost grumpily.  "If you two don't stop singing that horrible song, I will silence you both," Tyra warned.  The twins sang even louder, crooning in her ear as she sat down.  Fred jumped as Tyra landed a punch on his arm.  _"Silencio Vocal,"_ she said, pointing her wand lazily at them both.  Both continued to sing, but no noise came out.  This caused the whole room to burst into laughter.  

"Cute," Fred muttered after she had released them.

"I warned you both," she replied, mock-severity written across her features.  This caused them to burst into laughter again.  Molly conjured piles of presents from near the fireplace and stacked them in front of each person.  Ron pounced on his, revealing a set of Canon's Quidditch robes from Harry, the usual sweaters and treats from Molly and Arthur, a stack of Canary Creams and a new cauldron from Fred and George, a dragon claw necklace from Charlie, and a broomstick servicing kit from Tyra.  Harry received a book on dreams from Tyra, a bag of chocolate frogs and a sugar quill from Ron, a red sweater and dragon claw from Charlie and the adult Weasleys, and a huge slab of Honeyduke's chocolate from Hagrid.  Tyra received a Weasley sweater, blue and green striped, a sketch book and pencils from Harry and Ron, and from Charlie, a silver star on a chain.  She grinned as he helped her with it.  Fred and George had, naturally, given her a very nice broom.  Another package sat on the table, brought by owl that very morning, or so George told her.  She opened the attached envelope carefully.  

_To Tyra,_

_        I trust you are enjoying your holiday.  This is a little something that once belonged to your mother.  I thought you should have it._

_Severus_

Tyra tore eagerly into the wrapping, finding a leather-bound book.  It was a copy of _Dreams and Interpretations_.  She opened the cover to find a single word written inside, "Faith".  Puzzled, she closed it and set it on the table, saying nothing.  "Well, time to start on dinner.  Why don't you all take a walk?"  Molly shooed them out, helping them collect their gifts and cloaks.  

"So, who was the secret admirer?" Charlie joked, elbowing Tyra.

"Uncle Severus."  Harry and Ron still winced whenever she called him that.  "The book was my mother's."  Everyone walked along in comfortable silence for a few long moments.  

"I have decided that Ottery St. Catchpole is most un-entertaining," Ron mumbled.

"I find it charming," Tyra replied, eyes taking in the grazing sheep that partially blocked the road.  She held Charlie's hand, stopping every once in awhile to really study something so she could draw it later.  Ginny had started a game of kick-the-rock with Ron and Harry, who all took turns kicking the stone.   Harry wished he could make the peace of the day last forever.  

The following Monday found the group once again waiting to catch the train to Hogwarts.  Hermione told them all about her long week with her parents.  Tyra and Charlie took a private moment and kissed each other goodbye.  Harry forced himself to look away, which was a horrible idea.  Cho Chang was smiling at him from across the platform. "Ugh, can't you take that somewhere else?" Ron teased, flushing.  Fred and George watched them with more than a little interest.  

"Look somewhere else," Charlie suggested, kissing Tyra one more time before watching her find a seat on the train.  

Hogwarts was same as ever, Harry thought as they climbed the stairs and made their way inside.  Draco, as usual, was performing his latest pantomime, which consisted of smoochy noises and pulling faces in Tyra's direction.  She actually laughed at him in passing, unphased by the possible slight.  "Measly-mouthed twit," she whispered, causing Ron to cough loudly to hide his laughter.

"Harry, there you are," Cho said, coming up behind them.  Tyra grabbed Ron's arm and led him off to prevent him staring.  

"Hi, Cho," he mumbled, reddening as he looked down.

"So, are you dating the transfer student or something? You guys are always together."

"No, Tyra is my friend.  She's actually dating Ron's older brother," he stated.  "How was your holiday?"

"Fine. Listen, Harry, I just wanted to apologize for last Valentine's Day.  One of my friends pointed out that I probably shouldn't only talk about Cedric with you," she said, eyes shining.

_Oh no, she's going to cry again,_ he thought.  Instead, she kissed his cheek and ran off, leaving him standing there touching his face stupidly.  "That went well," he said aloud, heart palpatating as fast as it ever had when she was around.  He hurried to catch up to his friends.

"Well, how'd it go?" Hermione prodded excitedly.  Harry had ever known her to be gossipy or remotely interested in anyone's private lives before.  

"Fine.  Weird, but fine."  Tyra smirked before slinking off to the girls' dormitories.   "Is it me, or are things a little strange here?" he asked no one in particular, shaking his head.  Harry bent over his neglected Potions homework and tried to tune out the world around him.  IF it was going to be upside-down, he didn't want to be in it just yet.


End file.
